


Cuddle Puddle

by aquastellium



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Cuddle Puddles, Cuddles, Fluff, Gen, Multi, Not Beta Read, Other, Platonic Cuddling
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-12-10
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:01:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 42,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27292375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aquastellium/pseuds/aquastellium
Summary: This is entirely self-indulgent bc I am currently incredibly touch deprived from the pandemic. Also probably rough bc this is the first I've written non-academically in like 10 years lmao. Also not beta read bc i'm lazy and don't have the time.Just a platonic cuddle puddle with the teams. That's it.Gender neutral pronouns, tho there are possible hints at a feminine-presenting reader.on hiatus bc i ran out of ideas whoops
Relationships: Aobajousai Volleyball Club & Reader, Goshiki Tsutomu/Reader, Hanamaki Takahiro & Reader, Inarizaki Volleyball Club & Reader, Iwaizumi Hajime & Reader, Kai Nobuyuki & Reader, Kindaichi Yuutarou & Reader, Kita Shinsuke & Reader, Kuroo Tetsurou & Reader, Matsukawa Issei & Reader, Miya Atsumu & Reader, Miya Osamu & Reader, Nekoma Volleyball Club & Reader, Oikawa Tooru & Reader, Oohira Reon & Reader, Semi Eita & Reader, Shirabu Kenjirou & Reader, Shiratorizawa Academy Volleyball Club/Reader, Yaku Morisuke & Reader, Yamagata Hayato/Reader
Comments: 6
Kudos: 121
Collections: oc self insertSI





	1. Aobajousai

**Author's Note:**

> ft. Matsukawa, Hanamaki, Iwaizumi, and Oikawa at the tail end
> 
> Platonic with hinted crush on Matsukawa
> 
> cw: vomiting

For you, crying was painful. Full body trembling and seizing, ribs _burning_ , throat swollen and tight, face red. God, you were _such_ an ugly crier too. It was embarrassing, really, how absolutely _wrecked_ you looked whenever you cried. Especially now. _Thank god no one is here_ , you thought, flushing the toilet as you slid back down to sit on your bathroom floor, back resting against your tub. Oh and sometimes if you cried hard enough, you would puke and double over from abdominal pain.

Tonight was one of those nights.

Miyagi prefecture representative playoffs. Every year, your team (“my boys”, you lovingly called them) would make it to the finals, usually to be beaten by Shiratorizowa and that _ridiculous_ Ushijima. _“We’ll get them next year, and we’ll make it to nationals! I promise you, (L/N)-senpai,”_ Oikawa would tell you at every single practice. _“It’ll make these last 3 years all worth it, I promise. We’ll make you so proud and give you a team you can brag about.”_

Except you didn’t even make it to _finals_. Three full sets. Three full damn sets. That’s what it took for Karasuno to take your team down in the semi-finals. And it was _so_ damn close in the third set. Just _two more points_. Two more points and you would have made it to finals. You would have made it to nationals. Your team was _damn_ good this year, and you _knew_ they would have made it this year. _Everyone_ had worked their asses off, spending all their free time focusing on nothing but volleyball. But in the last set, they were defeated by a _completely_ unknown team.

Scenes from the last point played through your mind again, and you could feel another wave of painful sobs start to boil in your chest. Oikawa falling on his bad knee to set the ball to Iwaizumi, Kyotani _barely_ getting a hand under the ball to get it over the net. Watching Iwaizumi breaking down, teammates slapping him on the back, was the breaking point for you. You couldn’t make eye contact with them as the coach spoke to them. Hell, you couldn’t even join them for the meal afterwards. You walked home by yourself, barely keeping it together before breaking down onto your bathroom floor, where you found yourself for _at least_ two hours, choking out wave after wave of sobs.

“What a shitty manager I am,” you mumbled to yourself, pulling your knees to your chest as you rubbed your eyes. Your throat was absolutely _wrecked_ , making it painful to even mumble. “Can’t even support my own team. What an awful way to end my third year.”

Trying to calm yourself down, you pulled out your phone for a distraction. A single message notification had popped up on the screen. You had shot a text to Oikawa earlier during waves of sob and vomiting, asking him if his injured knee was alright. It wasn’t him; he still had you on delivered. It was Mattsun.

_M: Hey._

It was a simple message but you knew the meaning behind it like the back of your hand.

_[Y/N]: Family isn’t home. Could you bring some ginger tea and pocari?_

The response was almost immediate.

_M: 10 minutes._

It was a _thing_ that all the third years had with you. A ‘cuddle puddle’ as Oikawa liked to call it. Anytime there was a rough practice, rough match, whatever it was, you’d send out a text in the volleyball group chat, something along the line of “doors unlocked”, and within an hour, all the third years would be at your home, curled up around you as you all watched a movie or played Mario Kart or napped together. None of the first or second years knew about it, it was the ‘big third year secret’, according to Kindaichi. It wasn’t that you didn’t want them there; it was just a third year thing you all just started one day. Plus, it was hard enough to cuddle with four bodies and be touching _everyone_ at once. You only had so many limbs.

A distant _click_ alerted you to the approaching footsteps, and you looked up from your arms to see Mattsun staring down at you, piping hot cup of ginger tea in hand, one of his spare sweaters draped over his forearm, and a bag of junk food in the other. Almost angelic, really. But you would never tell him that.

“Hey,” you weakly croaked, wiping your eyes as you looked up at him. Wobbly, you tried to get to your feet, only to find yourself nearly collapsing in Mattsun’s arms.

“No.”

You were gently pushed back to the floor, ginger tea and pocari shoved into your hands, sweater and junk food thrown on the bathroom counter. Mattsun lowered himself to the floor, grunting as he hit the floor. In an instant, his arm was thrown over your shoulders, pulling him closer to you, but not too strong. He wasn’t quite sure if you were done with your puking phase of crying yet.

It wasn’t the first time the third-year had seen you like this, curled up on your bathroom floor, worshipping the toilet as your body was wracked with sobs. And it was never any less painful than the very first time he had seen it. The volleyball fangirls, _especially_ Oikawa’s, could be absolutely brutal to you. Accusations would fly at you weekly, from you cheating with the boys to you trying to ruin relationships. Technically, you were the cause of a _lot_ of break-ups, especially since the boys would immediately break-up with any girl that was treating you like shit. But no one would ever admit that, no. The team would rather die than be the reason you were crying.

Quiet sniffles filled the bathroom as you stared blankly into the ginger tea, taking small sips to try and soothe your rolling stomach. Mattsun’s hands gently rubbed your arm, his legs splayed out on the bathroom floor. You barely registered that he was still in his gym clothes and smelled like he had _just_ gotten out of the gym.

“You weren’t playing more volleyball after you ate, were you?” you quietly asked, swallowing hard at how raw your throat was

“Yeah.”

“Matsu-” your voice cracked when you tried to speak. You wanted to reprimand him, tell him he shouldn’t have done that, how they should have been resting. But nothing came out. Only a choked sob. “I-I’m sorry for leaving you and the team. God, I’m such an awful manager, I just…”

“Shut up,” he mumbled, pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead. “ _=No one_ was thinking that about you. No one would _ever_ think that about you.” In a swift movement, he pulled you into his lap, tight against his chest, placing his chin on top of your head. “We just… well, at least I had to deal with my feelings first. I don’t know about everyone else. I didn’t want to overwhelm you. I knew the loss hurt you as much as it did the rest of us.”

More tears rolled down your cheeks as you readjusted, setting down the pocari as you focused on trying not to spill your tea on him. “Oikawa didn’t push himself too hard, did he? I noticed he landed on his bad knee in that last point.” You wanted to change the subject before you puked from sobbing again. “I texted him after the game but he hasn’t responded.”

A short silence filled the room. “... you’re not going to like my answer.”

A shaky sigh escaped your lips. “Of course not,” you mumbled as you wrapped an arm around Mattsun’s. You’d deal with that later.

Silence once again filled the room as you and the middle blocker sat in silence, taking a small sip from your ginger tea every once in a while. Your breathing regulated again, and you noticed just _how much_ your chest and abdomen were burning. _That’s gonna hurt in the morning._

“I’m so proud of you all,” you finally piped up after the prolonged silence. “ _So_ fucking proud of you. Proud of everyone-”

“Senpai.”

“Like, I know Oikawa always said that he’d take the team to nationals-”

“Senpai.”

“-to make me proud but I don’t want _anyone_ on the team thinking that’s what it’d take to make me proud. Because-”

“ _Stop_.” The middle blocker’s words were harsh, and you looked at him, eyes wide at the firm voice. “No more crying. I’m tired of crying.”

You playfully punched his chest with your free hand. “ _You’re_ tired of crying. Imagine how _I_ feel.”

A small chuckle escaped his lips. “That’s fair. Have you eaten anything? I can get some food started for you.”

You looked at your phone. 9 o’clock. When was the last time you had eaten? Hell, what was the last thing you had eaten? A banana? Shit, how long had you been crying in your bathroom?

“Ummm, no, I honestly don’t know when I last ate. I’m just worried about keeping it down.”

“Hmmm, you have rice on hand?”

A stupid question, especially since the third-years always wandered into your house, looking for food to eat. “ _Always_.”

“I’ll get some started for you. Drink your tea, you’re probably dehydrated from your crying.” He gently removed you from his lap, groaning as he stood up. “Don’t chug it, though. I can’t handle vomit.”

You playfully stuck your tongue out as he left the bathroom. Admittedly, you had always had a little soft spot for the third year. His cologne, the way he knew how to cheer you up. You never acted on it, though, given your position as manager. It would have been inappropriate. Besides, you would have _never_ heard the end of it from his fangirls. You didn’t even _want_ to imagine handling his fangirls _and_ the volleyball team all while maintaining your grades and sanity.

Soft chatter coming from the kitchen greeted your ears. _Hanamaki,_ you quietly thought to yourself. A few seconds later, the brunette was standing in the doorway, spare sweater in one hand and a bag of junk food in the other.

“... guess Mattsun and I had the same idea,” the outside hitter remarked, looking at the sweater and junk food on the counter. “You doing alright?”

“Better,” you responded, stretching your legs out, face contorting in pain as you did. “Everything just… hurts.”

“You _are_ the only person I know that pukes when they cry too hard.”

You reached your arms out, making pathetic little grabby hands towards him as you pushed your lips out. Hanamaki immediately accepted your invitation, setting his sweater and the junk food down on the counter before resting his head on your stomach. “Make sure you don’t puke on me.”

“I’ll make sure to aim for you,” you joked, one hand rested over his chest and the other running through his hair. “I’m proud of you. Nationals or not. I’m so fucking _proud_ of you and this entire team.”

“Ugh, first Oikawa, now you?” Makki groaned, relaxing under at your touch. “Don’t make me cry again, [L/N]-senpai. I’m tired of crying.”

“Imagine how _I_ feel, Makki…. Wait, Oikawa was _crying_? And _I_ missed it?”

“Mhm. Almost as ugly as your crying.” Makki laughed as you lightly smacked his head. “Don’t worry, you’re still the champion of ugly crying, senpai. He hasn’t taken your title… Yet.”

“Ugh, you are the _worst._ I bet Shiratorizawa’s manager doesn’t have to deal with this bullying.”

“Bet you wouldn’t have as much fun with them,” Makki chuckled, lacing his fingers through your hand on his chest. “They seem… uh, I dunno, emotionally constipated? Way too serious, you’d get bored in a week.”

He wasn’t _wrong_ , but you would never admit that to his face. You’d always noticed how serious Shiratorizawa was, eyebrows always furrowed in concentration. Honestly, you were shocked that they didn’t have wrinkles on their foreheads yet, _especially_ that gray haired setter. Always looked pissed off at something or another. “A break from the ridiculousness would be nice, at least.”

“But would their wing spiker let you cuddle him after you throw up?”

“He’d probably complain a lot less.”

“Food’s ready, lovebirds,” Mattsun interrupted, carrying a bowl of rice covered with chopped green onions and a fried egg. He awkwardly stood in the doorway, a single eyebrow raised at Makki. “You’re really trusting them to not puke on you?”

“Mattsun,” you whined, earning a chuckle from the middle blocker. You accepted the food and the middle blocker found himself repositioned next to you, arm lazily tossed around you shoulder as he rubbed your arm.

“How long until Oikawa shows up, you think?” Makki pondered out loud.

“I’ll kick his ass if he shows up,” you mumbled in between bites. “He should be _resting_ that knee, especially after that final point. Ugh, the fact that he was even playing even after eating pisses me off. The fact that _all_ of you were playing after eating especially pisses me off. I should kick _all_ your asses for that one.”

 _Ah, there’s the manager we know and love_ , Makki and Mattsun thought as you dug into your food. The two boys took it upon themselves to reprimand you, telling you to slow down, take it easy, the food wasn’t going to disappear. Quiet laughs and giggles filled the bathroom as the three of you recounted your favorite stories over the last three years. Stories of Oikawa’s _extra_ ridiculous fangirls, weird gifts the team would get from fangirls.

“Remember that one charm from an Oikawa fan that somehow ended up cursing Iwaizumi for like a week?” Mattsun recalled. “That curse cleansing ceremony was… weird. I can’t believe we actually found a Ouija board with Kanji on it.”

“I can’t believe the coach let us do that in the _gym_ ,” you added, mouth stuffed with egg and rice. “I’m still not convinced that place isn’t haunted.”

“Don’t eat with your mouth full.” You mumbled out an apology at Makki’s scolding. “What did I just say? You literally just apologized with your mouth full.”

A good half-hour passed as the three of you recounted stories of your volleyball expeditions. Every once in a while, Makki would nod off, your fingers running through his hair. What time was it now? 10? You put your now empty bowl of food down, checking your phone. No messages from Oikawa and Iwaizumi. 

“What the hell are you three doing?”

Iwaizumi stood in the bathroom doorway, staring down at the three of you, arms folded across his chest. The only one of the three that hadn’t picked up junk food or brought a spare sweater, you noted. _Probably texted Mattsun._

“Have you never had an emotional breakdown on the bathroom floor?” you piped up, nudging Makki awake. “The cold floor is really soothing, you should give it a try.”

“Senpai was puking. Again.” You playfully slapped Mattsun’s arm and stuck your tongue. All that earned you was a light chuckle and a little smile. “Is Oikawa with you? They’ve already promised to kick his ass after falling on his bad knee.”

“No, he’s headed home for the night,” Iwaizumi responded, sitting down in the doorway. “At least, I think. I don’t really have the energy to deal with him tonight.” His eyes slowly drifted, falling onto your free hand. His eyes were exhausted with tell-tale signs of crying.

“I can’t reach your hand from where I’m at, Iwa.” you stated plainly, noting his gaze. “Are you all just going to crash here for the night?” The third-years quickly nodded in response. “My parents are out of the weekend so we don’t have to worry about that. I just wish it was cooler so we could use the kotatsu, but I guess my bed works just as fine. I’ll need to get out the spare futons.”

Your mind started calculating how everyone would fit on your bed, where everyone would be sleeping. Iwa _at least_ needs to be holding your hand, Matsu liked to cradle you and have his chin resting on your chin, and Makki wasn’t necessarily picky. He was happy as long as he could be somewhere in the mix. But what if Oikawa _did_ come by for the night? Where would he fit in the mess? _Shit, this is hard after crying for two hours straight,_ you thought.

Iwaizumi was the first up, taking your empty bowl and mug to the kitchen. Makki was next, groaning as he lifted his head off your stomach and his body off the floor. Mattsun let out a groan as he stood, stretching before offering you his hand. Gratefully, you took his hand, finding yourself shaky and your legs _completely_ asleep. A wave of nausea hit you as pins and needles erupted up your legs.

“Give me a second, my legs are asleep.” You lowered yourself onto the toilet seat, rubbing your calves as you desperately tried to get sensation back into your legs. Just that simple action was enough to make your abdomen and chest _burn_ , with Matsu noticing the contorted face of pain you made.

“You want me to carry you?”

“I’m good, thanks,” you responded. “I just _ache._ Ummm…” your eyes flitted towards Mattsun’s sweater he had brought earlier. “... Makki won’t be upset if I wear your sweater to bed, would he? Your sweater is a bit bigger than his.”

“Awww, is this your confession?” Mattsun teased as he tossed his sweater on to you. Your face erupted bright red, earning a fit of laughter from the middle blocker. “I’m so flattered.”

“I-shut up,” was all you could manage as you pulled your shirt off and quickly replaced it with his sweater. You’d be sweating buckets in the middle of the night, but it was all worth it. “... you sprayed this with your cologne, didn’t you.”

“Mhm,” he cheerfully responded, taking Makki’s sweater and the two bags of untouched junk food to the kitchen. “You good?”

No, your ears were _burning_ and you felt like you could melt under his gaze. You made a silent prayer that he couldn’t tell. “Yeah, I’m good.” You stood from the toilet seat, making your way to your bedroom, where you opened to find Iwaizumi and Makki already changed and rolling out your spare futons.

“Oikawa is on his way.” Everyone groaned loudly at Iwaizumi’s announcement. “I don’t give a shit about waiting for him, he can figure out how to fit by himself.”

“Hey, tell him to ice his knee and elevate it when he gets here. And lock the front door behind him when he gets here,” you instructed Iwaizumi. “Also, tell him to _stop ignoring my texts_.”

It had taken your parents some convincing to let you have two spare futons. They were skeptical about the _real_ reason you would have four boys over and the need for two extra futons. Which, while watching Mattsun change, it dawned on you that wasn’t a _ridiculous_ concern. Especially since you kept spare, clean pajamas for the four on hand. How _did_ you manage to convince your parents that the volleyball team _only_ liked to cuddle and not do anything sexual with you? They were hormonal teenage boys, anyway.

Mattsun was the first to flop down on the futon, with you quickly following suit. Like a dance routine, you tucked yourself into Mattsun, back pressed against his chest, his arm wrapped around your waist. Makki tucked himself against your chest, pressing his head underneath your chin as his legs tangled in with yours and Mattsun’s. Once settled, Mattsun promptly pressed his chin on your head, humming happily as he relaxed his arm over you and Makki. You made a mental note to wash everything tomorrow morning. None of them had showered, but you couldn’t find yourself complaining as Makki’s gentle snores met your ears.

After shutting the lights off, Iwaizumi tucked himself his own individual futon, lacing together his free hand with your outstretched hand. As everyone settled, Mattsun pulled both you and Makki closer into him, sighing deeply before dozing off. You weren’t sure when Oikawa got in, the only indicator of his arrival being a mumbled “pain in the ass” from Iwaizumi and a delicate touch on your shoulders. You, according to Oikawa the next morning, had sternly mumbled to him “ice your knee, dumbass”, but you figured he was just messing with you.

Were these four a pain in the ass? Absolutely. Did they and the rest of the team nearly give you a damn heart attack every week? Most definitely. Have they aged you about thirty years with their shenanigans? You didn’t need a doctor to tell you that.

But you’d much rather watch the world burn than give up your cuddle sessions with these boys.


	2. Aobajousai ii

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Iwaizumi gets cursed by an Oikawa fan and the team manager and third years have to deal with it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shiratorizawa and Inarizaki are written, but I'm not quite happy with the chapters. Might be released this week, might be released the next week. We'll see. This just happened to come to mind, and I wanted to play around with it as well as put in place some possible future content.
> 
> Also, apologies if the wrong terminology for shrines and temples was used. I'm not entirely too knowledgeable with Japanese spirituality and religion, so I was really going based off of Google searches and my own personal knowledge from my occultism/spiritual background.

“So, let me get this straight, Iwaizumi. Oikawa accepted this.. doll-”

“Yes.”

“From a fan, correct?”

“Yes.”

“And now you think you’re cursed and you need my help breaking it.”

“Yes.”

This entire scene was _ridiculous_ , to say the least. There you were, in the middle of the volleyball club room, standing in front of Iwaizumi, his eyebrows scrunched together with his usual pissed off face. Matsukawa and Hanamaki were both seated in folded chairs, a Cheshire grin slapped on the former’s face as he was _desperately_ trying to keep a laugh from escaping his lips. Arms folded across his chest, legs crossed as he watched this scene go down in front of him, the middle blocker was the entire reason why you were struggling to _not_ break down laughing at this entire situation.

“Okay,” you let out a shaky sigh, hands folded and pressed to your lips as you tried to suppress the laughter threatening to erupt. “So, let’s go over this one more time. What all has led you to this conclusion?”

“Well, it all started this morning…” Iwaizumi started with a huff, annoyance and frustration creeping into his voice. For a good, fifteen or so minutes, the ace started listing off _every_ minor inconvenience, from finding an egg shell in his morning breakfast to tripping _at least_ once every time he went up or down the school’s stairs to finding stains on _every_ one of his allegedly clean jerseys. “And then, shittykawa shows me this!” He shoved the doll, a small, feminine looking thing made of straw, hay, and various other earthen materials, in your face. “It has brown hair, like me!”

“It sounds like you’re having an off-day, Iwaizumi,” Makki noted, lightly smacking the snickering middle blocker next to him. “It happens to everyone. Go get some rest. We can manage Oikawa and Maddog for the day.”

As if things couldn’t get worse, the club room door slammed out, an exasperated and out of breath Oikawa standing in the entrance. Mattsun and Makki both jumped out their chairs, cursing and nearly falling to the floor at the captain’s sudden appearance. Without even _seeing_ who had entered, Iwaizumi’s glare managed to turn even more sour as he whipped around to glare daggers at the setter.

“ _You_.”

“Now, now, Iwa-chan,” Oiwaka started as he nervously closed the volleyball club door behind him. “Let’s not be hasty, the nice girl apologized for the curse. She even brought milk-”

Iwaizumi slammed Oikawa’s head down before he could finish the sentence. _Guess I’ll get to clean the blood up,_ you thought as you sighed at the scene unfolding in front of you. “Okay, so there actually _is_ a curse. How do we break it before the playoffs?”

“Well, you see, wonderful and _magnificent_ manager,” Oikawa immediately perked up, a single finger in the air as blood gushed from his nose. “ _Here’s_ what we need to break it.”

\------

“Where the hell are we supposed to find a Ouija board with _Kanji_ on it. Do they even make those?”

“Don’t look at me. _You’re_ the one who agreed to Oikawa’s request, senpai.”

“I-shut up, Mattsun.”

The middle blocker barked out a laugh, yakitori sticks in one hand and an offering of fresh melon in the other. You hadn’t expected to be spending the weekend going to some obscure, unknown festival in some rural town to visit the local shrine maiden to break a curse placed on your team’s ace by a jealous Oikawa fangirl that was upset with the amount of attention he was giving Iwaizumi. In fact, you had plans this weekend--albeit, your plans just consisted of shutting your phone off, ignoring the outside world, reading a book, drinking some tea, putting your feet up, _just relaxing_ in preparation for the representative playoffs. But nope, here you were, in the middle of some _busy as hell_ festival, silently praying to some greater power that you would be able to meet with the shrine maiden before the playoffs and break this “curse” that was placed on Iwaizumi.

At least you had company.

“Are we sure that this isn’t voodoo or witchcraft or even like… related to Eastern religion?” you pondered outloud, shifting your fresh fruit offerings in your hand. “Is this even the proper offering to give? I’ve never… ah, I’ve never had to break a curse before.” _Is this college application worthy?_ You wondered to yourself, peering at the festival’s stands.

“Why are you asking me? I don’t know _shit_ about curses,” Mattsun responded, taking the fruit offering from you. “Here, let me carry that for you. How did you even get funding from the student council from this?”

You sighed heavily, letting the middle blocker take the offering. Hopefully that didn’t mess up your offering. “Thanks, Mattsun. God, don’t even _get_ me started with the student council. They looked at me like a _complete_ idiot and laughed me out of the room when I asked for funding for this! Almost got on my knees to beg before they kicked me out.” You swore at Oikawa under your breath. “I hope this isn’t too expensive. We’re already tight on our budget the way it is since I budgeted in the nationals fund. I’m having to go half and half, with our budget and my own personal budget.” 

“Senpai, you’ve really got to be meaner to Oikawa. Seriously. You’re having to use your own budget? Tell Iwaizumi and he’ll get Oikawa to pay you back.” Mattsun sighed heavily, jerking his head towards an empty bench. “Mind if we sit so I can eat?”

You nodded, heading towards the empty bench. “It’s fine, really. I’d hate to start anything between those two before the tournament. Besides, I always have a personal budget for the team to get you all snacks and stuff,” you flopped down on the bench, watching the crowds pass by. “I’m just hoping that doesn’t destroy my budget, especially for nationals.”

“Aww, so you _do_ love us, senpai,” Mattsun teased, shoving a yakitori skewer in your free hand and throwing an arm on the back of the bench. “Here. For always taking care of the team and all the love and patience you show us.”

“I feel like I should be compensated with more than a single skewer of yakitori, but thank you for your generosity and being so thoughtful.” _Maybe let’s start with some therapy._ You took a bite, watching the crowd walk by as you munched away. “You know, I’m starting to think that weird ass stress dream I had was a warning for this year.”

“ _Which_ stress dream,” Mattsun laughed, tossing his already eaten skewer in the bin next to you. “You seem to have a lot of those.”

“That weird one at the beginning of the year. The one where all of you got stranded on the island and turned feral and we had to come rescue you.” You playfully smacked the laughing middle blocker. “Maybe if you all would stop stressing me out so much, I wouldn’t be _having_ so many stress dreams.”

“Where would the fun be then?” The middle blocker asked, throwing an arm around your shoulder. “Besides, I’d literally get on my hands and knees to beg if you threatened to actually leave us.” You almost choked on your yakitori, a blush forming on your cheeks at his confession. “I-I mean, _all_ of us would get on our knees and beg if you were serious about leaving. There’s a reason we call you senpai, afterall.” He ruffled your hair, your blush further deepening. “Hey, you alright? You need me to get you water or something?”

“I-I’m fine.” You responded, fixing your hair and finishing up your yakitori skewer. “I just wasn't… Wait, a minute, you’re _shitting me._ ”

“Hm?”

“Look.” You pointed at a red headed boy and a white haired boy, both staring at a booth with ghost hunting equipment. “No… Is that the Shiratorizawa third years buying… _dowsing rods_?”

“Oh my god.” Mattsun choked out a laugh, wiping away a tear from the sudden outburst. “You’re right. Hey, can I pick up some dowsing rods as well? I want to see if the gym is haunted after using the Ouija board.”

“No.”

“ _Please_.”

“No!” You felt like you were scolding a 6 foot child. Whipping out your phone, you quickly texted the Shiratorizawa manager. “Their manager should know about this.” With a quick text, you warned the manager of the potential upcoming shenanigans.

_Shiratorizawa Manager: Ugh, the coach told me they’re convinced the gym is haunted. Thanks for the heads up._

“Anyway, we should get going before the shrine temple gets too busy… _and_ before all the Ouija boards are sold out.” Mattsun remarked, preferring not to interact with the annoyed redhead the team so despised. “Plus I’m sure you’d like to get some rest. You want to hangout afterwards? I can bring some homework to your place.”

“No, I think I need some time to myself, no offense.” You sighed heavily, getting to your feet. “Which way is the temple? Oh my god, what is temple etiquette? What is this festival even for?” Your brain racing, realizing how _long_ it had been since you had been to a temple. Were your offerings good enough? What were you supposed to even be offering? 

Mattsun, recognizing your nervousness, sighed and pulled you close to him as you walked. “Stay on the left path going up, right path going down. Don’t walk in the middle, that’s for the deities. You’ll probably do a yen offering, maybe an incense offering at first, ring a bell twice, then say a prayer. If we’re lucky, we’ll be invited into the shrine to talk to the priestess or maybe an elder, I don’t know.” Reassuringly, he ran a hand up and down your arm. “Don’t worry too much, it’s disrespectful to the gods. Just… I dunno, trust the process?”

“Okay,” you exhaled, not realizing you had stopped breathing when the middle blocker touched your arm. “Sorry, I haven’t been to a temple in a while. _Especially_ to break a curse.”

Mattsun chuckled, looking up the pathway to the temple as you two slowly approached it. “Would holding my hand help? I always did that with my parents. I was, uhh,” he awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck, “kinda scared of the gods. Don’t ask why, I just was.”

A laugh escaped your lips at his confession. “You look so serious and intimidating all the time. I guess I just didn’t expect that from you.” With no hesitation, you laced his fingers into his. “Sure, I’ll take it. Let’s just hope everything turns out well.”

\-----

“Your friend is cursed and it will be hard to break.”

A stunned silence fell on you and Mattsun as the two of you stared wide eyed at the temple Miko knelt in front of you, lips screwed so tight you couldn’t even speak. In front of you, incense burned, giving a vaguely intimidating appearance to the entire situation, making everything seem so much more ominous than what it was. When the temple heard about your concerns, you were immediately ushered in, temple attendants taking your offerings to prepare them properly for the gods. And here you were, knelt in front of the temple Miko, learning that it _was_ indeed a curse like the girl had claimed.

“So, erm,” your mouth awkwardly smacked as you unscrewed your lips. “How, how do we break it, exactly?”

“This curse is complicated,” the shrine Miko explained, fanning the offering smoke to get a better insight. “The one who cursed your friend intended for your friend to confess to the love of their life, in hopes that it would be them. However, it backfired, and now the person the victim is in love with is cursed with, what seems like, mild inconveniences.” She stood from her spot, going to the back of the room to rummage for items. She swiftly returned with bundles of incense and burning materials. “As I said, they are mild inconveniences, but that isn’t to say that they can’t worsen. Burn the doll alongside with these as an offering to the gods. The offerings you brought are not needed, but we’ve gone ahead and prepared them for you to use.”

The explanation went in one ear and out the other, and you silently prayed that Mattsun had picked it up. _So, this girl gave Oikawa the doll, hoping that he’d confess to her, but…_ your thoughts were racing once again as you connected the dots. _It caused minor inconveniences to the one he’s in love with, which…_

Oh.

Oh.

_Oh._

“But the curse won’t be truly broken until the person given the doll confesses their love,” she ended, stoking the incense more to bring up more smoke. “This ritual will simply ward it off for the time being, but it _will_ come back if it isn't taken care of swiftly and in due time.”

“Thank you, for this,” Mattsun said, picking up the bundle of incense and charcoal while bowing deeply. “We deeply appreciate you making time for us and your guidance. We will make sure to make more offerings to this temple once the curse is broken.”

With that, the two of you were off. At some point, you picked up your prepared offerings, though you were stuck in such a daze that you couldn’t remember _when_ you got or _who_ gave them to you. Mattsun helped you through the crowds, and you quickly found yourself at the bottom of the steps.

“Mattsun-”

“Hm?

“You understand what that means, right?”

“Yep.” He sighed heavily, running his hand over his face. “I always… Suspected something. The team always suspected something, despite Oikawa dating only girls. I’ll keep quiet, though. But _you_ need to talk to him about the curse. He’ll take it better coming from you than me.”

“Right… Right.” A chill ran up your spine at the middle blocker’s words. “I… Just… I didn’t expect this to come up as a manager. What if I fuck it up? What if Oi-” 

He sighed heavily, once again yanking you up against him as the two you walked through the festival crowds. “Stop doubting yourself, [L/N]. We all love you, we all trust you. Even when we’re being little shits and refuse to listen to you, we know you’re always looking out for us and wanting the best for us, no matter how we act. Now,” he pointed towards a woodworking stand. “What about the Ouija board Oikawa requested?”

\-----

“So, we have the doll-”

“Yes,” Iwaizumi held up the doll with two fingers in front of him, a disgusted look plastered on his face.

“-and the incense and charcoal to burn it with-”

“Correct,” Mattsun tossing the charcoal and incense into the fire-proof bowl you had somehow managed to find.

“-and the offerings prepared by the temple along with some additional money offerings.”

“Of course!” Oikawa chimed in, face bruised and bandaged from Iwaizumi’s previous beatings.

In the corner of the gym, the second and first years were playing with the Ouija board you had picked up with your own money. _Maybe I should take Mattsun’s advice and have Iwaizumi force Oikawa to pay me back,_ you thought as you rubbed your face with your hand. The exhaustion from today’s events was starting to take a toll on you as you felt your body slumping. _No, he has enough to worry about right now. I’ll deal with that later_ … _And I’ll deal with the first years and second years later. Don’t want this place haunted._

“Oikawa,” you gestured towards the bowl in front of you, “since this curse was placed on you, intended for you, despite it misfiring and impacting Iwaizumi, you are the one to burn the doll and make the offerings to the gods.” You could have smacked Oikawa for his anguished expression. “This is literally what the temple Miko told us. You’re the one who got us into this, you’re the one who will get us out of this.” _If you do everything that I say you have to do,_ you cringed at the thought of lying to your team about this, especially since there was no telling whether or not he would do the complete work to break the curse.

Awkwardly saluting, Oikawa took the doll from Iwaizumi while placing the fruits at the makeshift shrine, kneeling as he lit the charcoal and incense. Once a strong fire and smoke started, the doll was tossed in. You, along with the third years (minus Makki, who had refused to take part in the ceremony due to reasons), now stood awkwardly around the fire. 

To be fair, the temple Miko and other attendants hadn’t told you how to follow up the curse breaking. 

“So, uh… it’s done?” you chimed in, rubbing the back of your neck. “It’s… it’s a bit late and the weekend. You’re welcome to leave if you all want to. But first…” you turned your attention to the first and second years. “Could you… uh… deal with that, Iwaizumi? I don’t want this place to be haunted.”

“Got it,” Iwaizumi marched off to deal with the others. You slowly watched as the rest of the team departed, Mattsun offering to help you stay behind as you cleaned up the burning from the… sacrifice? _No, not sacrifice,_ you shook your head. _Whatever, I’m too tired to deal with this_. You rubbed your face as you headed back to the volleyball club room to do a final inventory check and hopefully run into Oikawa.

\------

“Hey, Oikawa.”

The hairs on the back of the setter’s hair stood as you called his name, gesturing for him to join you next to the volleyball club door. By this point, the rest of the team members had left, the doll burned in the fire alongside the incense and charcoal, offerings set out for the gods. This would just be a laugh the next morning for the rest of the team, but not for you. _But that won’t be enough,_ your thoughts were swarmed with the words of the temple Miko. _This was intended to have the person confess their love… but it backfired on the one that they loved, causing the inconveniences._

“H-have I ever told you how much I appreciate you, [L/N]-senpai?” the setter stuttered out as he stumbled towards you. “Really, the club is just _so_ lucky to have you. You do _so_ mu-”

“I lied,” you confessed. “I lied about what the temple Miko said.” _Shit_ , you thought to yourself, nervously running your hand through your hair and licking your lips. _How am I going to address this_. “Well, Oikawa, d-do… are… are you interested in anyone in the team?”

The captain paused, a stupid smile dancing on to his list. “[L/N]-senpai, if you wanted to confess to me, you _should_ have!” A blush started growing over your cheeks. “Aw, you’re _so_ cute when you get flustered.” A grand idea seemed to dawn on him. “Am… Am I the first person to make you blush like this?” 

“Are you in love with Iwaizumi?”

Silence fell on the two, Oikawa’s stupid little grin falling from his face as he stared at you. _Shit, fuck, damn it, I should have just let it go._ You berated yourself, picking at your fingernails as the team captain just stared at you, dumbfounded. The taste of copper started trickling into your mouth as you realized you had been grinding your bottom lip between your top and bottom teeth.

“I-I’m sorry, that was out of line.” You bowed to Oikawa, your face turned red. “Please, just ignore that, it was just-”

“Yeah.” With just one word, Oikawa had managed to shut you up. You snapped your gaze up to meet his face, and it seemed like he was in a completely different place. “I have been for a while now, I think. Why? Did the shrine Miko say something about my love life?” His tone was teasing once again, obviously not taking this situation seriously.

“I-I… Well,” you cleared your throat as you stood back up straight, rubbing your neck with the back of your hand. “So, I, yeah, I lied about what was said about the whole _curse_ thing. Yeah, it was a curse. A mild weak one, from what she said, but, er, uhhh…” you cleared your throat, avoiding eye contact with Oikawa _anyway_ possible. “Well, the curse was intended to make you confess to the girl you loved. Which, in this situation, it was intended to be the girl that gave you the doll _thing_ . But, it backfired, and instead of making you confess, well… it mildly inconvenienced the person that you’re in love with so…” _This_ had to be the most awkward thing you had done since you started as a manager your first year. “It hit Iwaizumi and the curse won’t be fully lifted…”

“... until I confess to Iwa-chan.”

“Yes.” You let out a breath you didn’t realize you had been holding in. “The ritual we did will hold it off for a bit, at least, but to truly break it, you have to confess. Sorry.” You dipped your head, wondering if you should be bowing to him. “And, as your manager, I’m… uh… sorry if you haven’t felt comfortable coming to talk to me about this stuff. I wish I could have been… uh… more forthright with my openness?” Damn, you sounded _really_ stupid. “You know what, just ignore that, I don’t know what I’m saying. But, you know I love you regardless of who you’re dating or sticking your dick in or… you know, I’ll shut up now.”

A small laugh left Oikawa’s lips. “Awww, so you _are_ confessing your love for me, [L/N]-senpai,” he laughed at the embarrassed blush developing across your cheeks. “But… I was still getting my feelings figured out. Once I did, you were going to be the first person I told… You know, I only see you get this flustered when you talk to Mattsun. Maybe _you_ should do some confessing yourself?”

Your foot quickly found the captain’s ass. “Shut up, you… you pain in the ass!” You folded your arms over your chest, refusing to make eye contact with him while waiting for the blush to leave your cheeks. “That’s different. Anyway, a little bird told me the Shiratorizawa gym is haunted.”

“And?”

You picked up the Ouija board, which had been unceremoniously thrown down outside of the club room door out of fear of it cursing the room. “You in?”

\------

“Hey, uh, did anyone get a Ouija board with Kanji on it?”

Stick in hand, Yamagata poked the Ouija board now sitting out in the middle of the Shiratorizawa gym, seeming to have popped up out of nowhere. They had been in the middle of a practice when the lights shut off suddenly. Electrical shortage, maybe. And then it just _appeared_. The entire gym had gone silent with their free practice to stare at it, with Goshiki immediately hiding behind a third year, the only one brave enough to approach it being Yamagata. On the condition that he had a stick to poke it with, of course.

“A Ouija board with Kanji on it?” Shirabu inquired, staring at the board inquisitively. “I feel that’s rare to come across. Perhaps Tendou-san purchased it.”

“H-he isn’t here, though,” Goshiki stammered out, looking over his teammate’s shoulder, eyes blown wide. “He snuck out to that festival with Semi!”

“Well, no need to be-” As Yamagata stared at the board, trying to reassure his junior, the keypiece started moving.

_Here._

“Hmmm, let’s burn it,” the third year immediately changed the course of his statement.

“Agreed.” Shirabu nodded in strong affirmation.

“Yes!” Goshiki barely managed to squeak out.

“I’ll find some matches.” And with no other words, the third year libero left, leaving the team to distance themselves near the gym walls, as far away from the Ouija board as possible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Buy me a coffee?
> 
> https://www.buymeacoffee.com/regretrograde


	3. Aobajousai iii

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes you just gotta help your club members deal with past trauma. Takes place after the very first Aobajousai v Karasuno practice match.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kindaichi's randomly grown on me tbh and i can see a lot of me in him. minus the hair part.
> 
> cw: panic attack, not much detail given on it
> 
> used a personal tactic that i use when i'm feeling an anxiety attack coming up. just do simple multiplication or start naming random facts or things, like states or countries or cities. also deep breathing exercises

“So… that was the Great King of the Court, huh. It looked like some of our players were on edge around him. You know anything about him, Iwaizumi?”

A deep sigh escaped Iwaizumi’s mouth as he stared across the court, watching as the others helped clean the gym up. He rubbed the back of his neck, pondering over how exactly to answer your question. “It’s complicated, for everyone really. Back in middle school, Kageyama got that nickname because he had these ridiculous standards for his teammates to meet. It resulted in some… Hatred from his teammates, I guess. That’s one situation.”

“ _ One  _ situation?” Your eyebrows raised in shock at the ace’s analysis. “Just how much shit did he stir up in high school? Oh, thanks Mattsun.” You collected the jerseys the middle blocker had gathered up for you. “Is there anything I can do about it?”

Iwaizumi tossed his jersey to you, shaking his head towards you. “Oikawa is always comparing himself to Kageyama, but I can deal with that. That’s a sort of… Private issue, between us. Don’t bring it up unless he brings it up with you.” His eyebrows furrowed as he looked around at the remaining teammates cleaning up. “Maybe check on the first years? Kindaichi and Kunimi were both his teammates back in middle school.”

Your eyes scanned the gymnasium, noting everyone who was and wasn’t still putting things away. It  _ seemed  _ that everyone was accounted for. You looked down at the jerseys you had collected, counting them out. Yep, seemed like everyone’s jerseys had been returned.  _ Kunimi and Kindaichi must have snuck off _ , you figured as you looked around for the two first years. “Hey, do I have everyone’s jerseys? I need to get them washed and dried off.”  _ Not unusual for those two, I suppose.  _ You headed towards the storage room, hoping the machines were working properly. 

Stepping out of the gym, you noticed a slumped over figure on a bench. Kindaichi. You squinted your eyes as you stared at the first year, noting his slumped over posture and face dug into his hands. How long had he been out here? You set the jerseys down next to him and crouched down in front of him, putting your hands on his arms. His breathing was heavy and irregular.  _ Shit. _

“Kindaichi, you alright? Do you need me to get you anything? Water, Iwaizumi?”

Silence.  _ Damn it, _ you thought, rubbing your thumb on his arm.  _ Panic attack. _

“Kindaichi. What’s two times two?”

Silence. Again. This wasn’t the first time someone on your team had an anxiety attack. In fact, the first time it happened, you were absolutely terrified and had  _ no  _ idea how to help them. You ended up seeing the guidance counselor for help, and you spent the next week or so memorizing and researching methods for calming down panic attacks. 

“F-four.” Kindaichi’s voice was shaky.

_ Good _ . “Three times three?”

“Nine.”

“Four times four?”

“Sixteen.”

“Okay, let’s take a few deep breaths. Can I take your hands?” He loosened his grip against his face, reaching out to grab your hands and resting them on your lap. “Just follow my lead. In… and out. In… and out.”

You sat for about five minutes or so, breathing deeply as you attempted to calm the first year. What set him off? Your mind started racing, going through all scenarios that could have happened in that match. He was on top of his game, minus that freak quick between that shortie and that setter. Wait… That setter.

_ “... Kindaichi and Kunimi were both his teammates back in middle school.”  _ Iwaizumi’s voice echoed through your thoughts. Yep, that was it. Kageyama. You knew  _ nothing  _ about the situation, but it didn’t matter. What mattered was your first year having a panic attack right in front of you.

You looked up at the first year, standing as you did. You could just  _ tell  _ he needed to have a good cry, the poor kid. But you couldn’t make any cry. Crying was something incredibly vulnerable, especially for high schoolers. You just wished you could have some reassurance that he wouldn’t be alone when he did start crying.

“Senpai pukes when they cry.” Makki’s voice came from behind you in the hall. “You really can’t get any more embarrassing than that, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“MAKKI!” You snarled as you whipped your head around to see Mattsun and Makki rolling the volleyball cart down the hall, smirks on their lips. You noticed the jerseys you had placed on the bench were resting on top of the volleyballs. “I… uck, thanks for cleaning up”

“Anytime, senpai. You do what you do best and take care of Kindaichi for us.” Mattsun turned his attention to the teary-eyed first year, the latter’s gaze locked on the ground as he avoided eye contact with his senior. “And don’t be embarrassed. All the third years have cried to our senpai before; the least you could do is get some food out of it.”

“Ugh,” you turned your attention back to Kindaichi, but not before sticking your tongue out at Mattsun. The two third years walked down the hall towards the storage room, chatting away about everything and nothing. “Feel free to laugh at me, I guess. You’d probably have found that secret out at one point or another.” You noted the first year wasn’t laughing, not even making eye contact with you as he stayed fixed on the concrete floor. “... And I guess I can get you food on the way home, if that would help.”

Nothing was working. You bit your lip nervously, looking up and down the hall, praying that some miracle would come out of nowhere to save you. After three years of being the team manager, you had the third and second years’ needs down to a tee. What relaxes them, what sets them off, their stressors, their warning signs. At this point, it was practically second nature to you.

But the first years? Nah, you knew nothing about them. You were still learning all their tells. And this was the first breakdown of the year.

“C-can… Can I get a hug?” Kindaichi’s question was innocent, a nervous ask.

Without even hesitating for a second, you pulled Kindaichi’s face into your stomach, resting a hand on his upper back and another in his hair. A moment passed before the first year wrapped his hands around your waist, digging his face in as his tears started wetting your sweater. His sobs were muffled, almost silent, as you ran your hand through his hair.  _ There you go, let it all out, _ your mind wandered as the first year cried into your stomach. His shoulders shook as you drew circles on the top of his back.

“... Iwaizumi sort of filled me in on the whole Kageyama situation. I don’t know the specifics, and you don’t have to tell me the specifics, but I’m sorry for what you went through. If it’s any consolation to you.”

Silence once again fell on you two as you stood in the hallway, your fingers still tracing various patterns on his back. His grip on your waist seemed to be slipping, the shake in his shoulders disappearing. Your sweatshirt was  _ soaked  _ at the stomach at this point, but you couldn’t complain. Sweatshirts could be washed, but unspillled tears could never be spilled.

“S-senpai.” Kindaichi’s voice cracked as he spoke, his face still dug into your stomach. “Am I a good person?”

If someone was in the hallway, they probably could have heard your heart break at the first year’s questions. “Oh, Kindaichi,” your voice dripped with sadness at the innocent first year’s question. What exactly  _ did  _ Kageyama do to him in middle school? “Of course you are. You are one of the sweetest people on this entire team. Honestly, you’re a safe haven for me as a manager. I  _ never  _ have to worry about you, and you’re always keeping the team’s head up. I literally couldn’t ask for more from you.” You paused for a moment. “Well, I take that back. After what you just asked, I want  _ you  _ to believe that you’re a good person. It won’t be an immediate thing, it may happen in the spring. I just want you to see what I see in you, deal?”

You weren’t sure if the first year was quite hearing what you were saying. Actually, you didn’t even know if what you had said made any sense. It was sort of a tradition reserved for the third years. At some point during your three years, you made a promise with each one of them that they had to do something to improve upon themselves. And usually within the school year, they had managed to complete the promise for you. Well, except for one of them.

Kindaichi pulled away from your stomach, wiping his arm across his eyes as he turned his gaze to the ground. “I’ll try, senpai.” He stood from his spot on the bench, collecting himself before flashing a small smile to you. “Thank you. For everything.”

“Hey, I’m your manager. That’s my job. Plus, you’re a person, it’s literally the least you deserve.” You turned down the hall, mind momentarily wondering where the other third years were. “That’s all I can ask for, Kindaichi. Are you ready to head out? Supper’s on me.”

“Now, what was that I heard about food?” Mattsun’s voice seemingly appeared in your right ear, one arm thrown over you and Kindaichi’s shoulders. “There’s a new ramen shop that opened up near your place, senpai. You all want to check it out?”

“That offer was for  _ Kindaichi, _ Mattsun.” You huffed as you wrapped your arm around Kindaichi’s waist, sticking your tongue out at the third year. “You’re a third year, you can afford your own food.”

“Ohhh, it’s supposed to be a bit rainy outside later today. Is your family’s kotatsu set up, [L/N]-senpai?” Makki’s arm found its way over Kindaichi’s shoulder, stacking on top of Mattsun’s arm. “Ramen and kotatsu on a rainy day. Sounds great, doesn’t it, Kindaichi?”

“Uh, yeah, I guess. “ Kindaichi’s voice was weak as he responded to the third year. He sniffled a bit, rubbing his nose. “Do any of you…” Before he could even finish his question, three tissue packets were reaching towards him. “Thanks.”

“Hey, we take care of each other around here.” From somewhere next to Mattsun, Iwaizumi’s voice was assertive, reassuring the first year as he wiped his nose and dried his eyes. “If there is  _ anything  _ you need, you find one of us, you understand? We won’t judge you for anything.”

Another quiet sniffle came from Kindaichi, his eyes fixed on the floor as he wiped away the tears threatening to spill out of his eyes. “I… I do think I’d like to get some ramen. I-if that’s fine with you, [L/N]-senpai.”

And so, you and your third years found your way back to your family’s home, ramen bowls and sides in hand, all curled up underneath your family’s kotatsu as everyone watched the rain come in. Mattsun and Makki were yelling over some dumb game on Mario Party, which you immediately regretted taking out for the two to play. Iwaizumi’s arm never left Kindaichi’s shoulders, reenforcing everything that had been said to the first year in the past few hours. You watched the first year, a small smile forming on your lips as Kindaichi’s face eyes started lighting up, relaxing as he ate and chatted with his seniors.

It wouldn’t be tomorrow. It wouldn’t be this week, maybe not even this month. But you knew that Kindaichi would come around eventually. And like a little kid the night before Christmas, you couldn’t wait to see that moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Buy me a coffee?
> 
> https://www.buymeacoffee.com/regretrograde


	4. Aobajousai iv

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oikawa says good-bye.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> that's it. a bit angsty with mattsun x reader, mattsun x makki, and iwa x oikawa vibes
> 
> no cw or tw needed

“So this is it, Mattsun.”

“Yep.”

“We’re saying good-bye to Oikawa.”

“Yep.” Mattsun wasn’t looking at you as he spoke, his face glued to his phone screen.

“And he’s going abroad and we don’t know when we’ll see him next.”

“Yep.”

It was surreal, really, with how much of a whirlwind of a last year it had been. First, it was your third year. You were graduating, expected to apply to universities and go on and actually be an adult and not just some floundering child. Oikawa finally confessed his feelings to Iwaizumi after _that_ weirdass doll incident, leading to the two dating on the downlow and Iwaizumi becoming the happiest you’d ever seen him. Then the loss at spring high, your team once again not going to finals despite having one of the best teams in the last few years.

And then reality all came crashing down when Oikawa announced to the team that he would be traveling to Argentina for volleyball, leaving you all with only a month to process and cope. Things had become… odd after the announcement. Tense, in fact, the team not quite sure how they all felt about it. Iwaizumi had been hit the hardest, practically screaming at Oikawa when he announced the news to the team. Half the team had to interfere and pull the two apart. The news had sent you into complete shock, numbness hitting you like a bullet train, resulting in a month long period of near estrangement from the captain you loved so deeply and dearly.

Reflecting back on it, watching Iwaizumi and Oikawa talk in the airport as all of you waited for his plane, you regretted all of it. The uncharacteristic coldness you had shown Oikawa, the lashing out at him when he tried to make amends with you. Betrayed and heartbroken were good words to explain how you felt over the last month. Ridiculous, really, since you weren’t the one that was in a romantic relationship with him. 

“I think I fucked up, Mattsun.” You finally admitted, slouching over in your chair as you put your face in your hands. “I think I really fucked up, Mattsun.” You took in a deep, shaky breath, attempting to calm yourself.

The middle blocker ran a hand up and down your back, silently reassuring you. “Yeah, you did, senpai. But Oikawa still loves you, regardless. He understands.”

_ Does he? _ Stressed, you ran a hand through your hair, attempting to avoid looking up at Oikawa and Iwaizumi. Your shoulders tensed up, throat closing up as tears started forming. Damn it all. Damn it. You  _ were  _ an idiot.

“It’s Oikawa. He’ll probably forget it the minute you get to Argentina and be beginning for a phone call.” Makki’s voice was uncharacteristically quiet as he spoke, and you couldn’t tell if he was trying to reassure you or himself. He’d ended up coping exactly like you did, becoming quiet and distant from the captain.

“Senpai.” You hadn’t even noticed Oikawa walked up to you, and you weren’t quite sure if you could make eye contact with him as you stared at the ground. “I’m sorry.”

“Shut the fuck up, Oikawa.” You could feel Mattsun, Makki, and Oikawa had been taken aback by your statement. You finally looked up, feeling the tightness in your throat as you made eye contact with Oikawa. “I’m the asshole in this situation. I shouldn’t have ignored you like I did, I shouldn’t have-”

Oikawa’s hands cupped the side of your face, your eyes widening as he knelt down to eye level with you. The two of you sat in silence, tears streaming down your face as he looked intently into your eyes, the world around you going quiet and disappearing. 

“I’m calling you the minute I land in Argentina. Apartment tour, city tour, everything. Facetime. I want to show you everything.” A rasp edged his voice as he spoke, fumbling for something out of his bag. “But in the meantime, take these. I want you to have them.”

Wordlessly, Oikawa placed all his old jerseys on your lap, along with his volleyball sweater. Every single one, since his first-year in high school, from his starting position to his position as captain. You stared mindlessly down at the jerseys and sweaters, numbness once again washing over you as you sniffled and stared down. 

“Take your time.” Oikawa stood, rubbing the top of your head. “I’ll be here when you’re ready. Anyway, I need to get going. Get on my plane. Take care, senpai.” He turned on his heels, heading towards the departure gate without saying another word.

A moment of silence passed, your brain not even processing Iwaizumi stepping towards you as you stared down at the jerseys sitting in your lap. A hand ran through your hair as you processed everything that had just happened. Quiet sniffles accented the silence.

“C-can we go?” you asked feebly, not looking at anyone.

Iwaizumi quietly pulled you up out of your chair, gripping you tightly against him as he turned you towards the entrance. “Anything for you, senpai. Do you need anything?”

“No,” you responded, wiping away a single tear. “I… I don’t know what I need.”

“Take your time.” Mattsun ran a hand up and down your back, taking your free hand. “We’re here for you.”

The four of you found your way back to Iwaizumi’s car, Makki and Mattsun insisting you take the passenger seat on the trip back to your family’s house. Silence fell in the car as you stared down at your phone, amping yourself up to text Oikawa.

_ [Y/N]: I’m really genuinely sorry. I regret this past month. _

_ [O]: Stop it. I’m going to make you proud in Argentina, to make up for everything. _

_ [Y/N]: I’m already proud of you, Oikawa. You’ve never disappointed me once. Promise me you’ll figure that out when you get to Argentina? _

_ [O]: I love you, senpai. _

_ [Y/N]: Promise me, Oikawa. Please. _

_ [O]: Fine. _

_ [Y/N]: I love you too, Oikawa.  _

You placed the phone on your lap, facing away from you. Whether or not Oikawa texted you back, you didn’t want to see. Iwaizumi’s hand quickly found yours, playing with your fingers as he drove to your apartment, tears occasionally spilling down your face. At some point, Mattsun had tossed you a packet of tissues, which you took with an appreciative nod.

You weren’t sure when you arrived at your family’s house, the only thing alerting you being Iwaizumi opening your door to let you out. Mattsun and Makki had already stepped out, the two of them standing at the front door to your parent’s house. You were thankful that your parents were out for the entire day. You weren’t quite sure if you could handle seeing them with how much of a mess you were.

“Iwa, I…” You pulled out the neatly folded shirts and jerseys Oikawa had given you, extending them out towards Iwaizumi. “I feel like you deserve these more than I do. Especially after how I treated Oikawa when he said he was leaving. I want you to have them.”

The ace’s gaze was black and distant, as if he wasn’t looking at you. Dark circles and puffy bags had developed from the crying throughout the day, irises accented with red. He didn’t respond, instead throwing his arms around you, pushing the shirts to your chest. A strong arm cradled your head as you rested your head on his shoulder, wishing your hands were free to return the hug. You could feel the defeat in his shoulders as he dug his face into your neck, letting out a deep sigh.

“Toru thought highly of you, senpai. He adored you.” A few moments passed before Iwaizumi spoke, his voice a cracked mumble. “He never said it to your face, but there were days that he wouldn’t shut up about how amazing you were after practices. I mean, you still are. We all think that about you. But Toru…” He pulled away cupping your face with his hands as he pressed a gentle kiss on your forehead. He lingered for a moment, running his thumbs on your cheeks. “Keep them. They’re for you. You’re always telling us to believe in ourselves and be proud of our accomplishments, and I think Toru wants that for you too.”

_ I think Toru wants that for you too.  _ Iwaizumi’s words echoed through your head as you gazed into his eyes, holding back another sob. You nodded, pulling away from the ace quietly. You knew if you stood like that for too much longer, you would breakdown in your family’s driveway. And no one needed that. Fumbling for your keys, you unlocked the front door, letting Mattsun and Makki in. It was quieter than normal as the two shuffled in, something you were grateful for, for once. Your chest and throat burned from how hard you had been holding onto the tears threatening to escape at any moment.

“Hey, give me a minute, okay? I’ll meet you all in the living room.” You bowed to the three, excusing yourself to your bathroom.

Shutting the door behind you, not thinking about even locking it behind you, you stared at the jerseys you held in your hands. Oikawa was gone. Oikawa was gone, halfway across the world, and there was no telling when you would see him next. You shoved your nose into his jerseys and sweaters, already wishing it was your captain. Tears started spilling out of your eyes, the floodgates finally gushing after an entire month of being suppressed. Your shoulders trembled, eyes wetting the jerseys as you stood in front of your mirror, sobbing even harder than when your team had lost at the prelims and were disqualified from going to nationals.

“Senpai?” Mattsun’s voice was quiet as he knocked on the bathroom door. The door opened, the middle blocker poking his head in, a glass of water in hand. “You alright?”

You wiped away the tears that had been spilling out for the last ten minutes, sniffling quietly. “I-I’ll be fine. Not right now, though,” you responded, hopping on the bathroom sink. Something about being in the bathroom with the middle blocker just calmed you down, for whatever reason. 

Mattsun stepped in, passing the glass of water off to you. Before you could process his presence, you found the middle blocker wrapped around you, hands finding the back of your head as he rested his head on your chin. “I think everyone’s in the same boat as you. Anything I can do for you?”

“No, you need to take care of yourself,” you mumbled. You gulped down the glass of water, setting it next to you in the sink. “We all need to take care of ourselves right now.”

“I’m fine for the moment, but it’ll probably hit me in a few weeks. Maybe after Iwaizumi leaves for the states. It’s just not real right now” A groan escaped your lips at Mattsun’s comment, earning you a kiss on the top of the head and a free hand laced into yours. “Sorry, sorry. Shouldn’t have said that. One loss at a time, okay?”

The two of you sat in silence, your breathing echoing through the bathroom as Mattsun played with your hand. An occasional sniffle from you and a shaky breath from Mattsun accented the silence, you reflecting on the last three years. You couldn’t tell what was on the middle blocker’s mind, his lips still pressed into your hair. Was… Was now a good time for a confession for your feelings towards the blocker? It may be the only chance, given that you honestly didn’t know the middle blocker’s plans following school.

“I’m getting things figured out, senpai. I’ve always been interested in you, but after talking to Iwaizumi…” Had the middle blocker read your mind? He pulled away from you, cupping your jaw with his hands. His hands practically engulfed your face, you noted. Not that you were complaining. “I’m just getting stuff figured out with Makki right now. We’re, uh, not really a thing right now and with everything going on, I didn’t have the time to talk to you about it. Plus, it felt like Iwaizumi would have better advice on the issue. Not that  _ your advice  _ isn’t amazing, senpai. Just, like… Yeah.”

A laugh escaped your lips as you stared at him, grabbing one of his hands that grasped your face as you nudged into his hand. “I’m not insulted, Mattsun. You need to get this stuff figured out.” You didn’t want to admit that there was a bit of heartbreak to that sentiment. But that wasn’t what the middle blocker needed to hear right now. “We’ll cross that bridge when we get there. That work for you?”

“Yeah, but I just… I need this right now.” The middle blocker tilted your head back, his lips gently meeting yours as he melted into the kiss You simply let him take control, his lips soft and plush as you tasted mint on his breath. Had he planned for this? You didn’t really care, your eyes shutting as you took the moment to simply melt in his hands. He pulled away for a moment, but not before you returned the sentiment with a gentle peck. “Hmmm, what would you think about you with Makki and me? I’m sure I could convince him.” His tone was joking as he rested his forehead on yours, tempting you for another kiss as you shared the space with him.

“Oh god,” you chuckled a bit, settling to kiss the middle blocker’s palm. “That would be… That would be an experience. Jeez, the amount of chaos. You two would be paying for the hair dye for the gray hairs.”

A deep chuckle escaped Mattsun’s lips as he pulled himself back to your lips, pausing for a moment to savor the gentle kiss. “You’d love it,” he mumbled, pulling away from you completely this time. You already missed the closeness. “Anyway, we ordered some takeout food. All your favorites, paid for by your favorite third years. Consider it repayment for all the bullshit you’ve dealt with for the last three years.”

A laugh escaped your lips as you rubbed your eyes, hopping down from the bathroom sink. “I think you owe me  _ a lot _ more than that.” You found Mattsun’s hand squeezing yours again, his gaze no longer soft, but rather intense and serious as he looked at you. Anxiety started creeping up in your chest as you stared back into his intense gaze.

“Look, just promise me.” His voice was choked as he spoke, breathing shaky. “You won’t leave for a year. Deal? I need you here for a year at least.”

Had your heart been able to break anymore, it would have. You stared at Mattsun, processing his request before getting on your tippy toes and giving the middle blocker a gentle peck on the lips. “I promise.”

“Good,” he mumbled, removing his grip from your hand as he turned to open the bathroom door. “Let’s go. I’m starving.”

And so, the three of you sat in your family’s living room, crying over Howl’s Moving Castle and Spirited Away, reminiscing on the last three years. Laughter echoed throughout the living room throughout the evening as you ate yourself nauseous on takeout. Mattsun’s arm refused to leave your shoulder, him insistently pulling you towards him throughout the night when you pulled away for a moment. Iwaizumi had claimed your chest, your fingers carding through his hair, lulling him to fall asleep first. Makki’s head rolled over onto your shoulder, him passing out and snoring gently. Mattsun was the last to fall asleep, the two of you exchanging soft whispers and gentle kisses throughout the evening before his head fell back and soft snores replaced his whispers.

Your head fell back as you stared at the ceiling, quiet tears escaping the corner of your eyes as you realized this was the last time the three of you would be able to do something like this. In a few weeks time, Iwaizumi would be off in the states, doing whatever he was doing for however long he’d be there. It dawned on you, how deep Mattsun’s request really was.  _ I think I need that year just as much as he does _ , you realized as you wiped the tears away from your eyes. You tucked your head onto Mattsun’s shoulder, letting the middle blocker’s gentle snores lull you to sleep. Yeah, you would definitely be needing that year in Miyagi. Maybe even more than Mattsun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Buy me a coffee?
> 
> https://www.buymeacoffee.com/regretrograde


	5. Aobajousai v

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You go to the Olympics to see your favorite captain. Oh, and Iwaizumi, I guess.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is a hella long one with like 9k word whoops. got carried away with it and still wanted to add more. anyway, idk what the covid regulations look like in japan. probably better than the states, if i had to make a guess. 
> 
> fun fact: i had the chance to go to the Olympics but my study abroad ended up cancelled due to covid. tickets were like 70 dollars, which honestly kinda shocked me tbh. let's act like tickets for the Olympics are hella expensive for the sake of this piece, shall we?
> 
> cw: alcholol
> 
> ships: mattsun x reader, iwaizumi x oikawa

Your shirt was super glued to your back, drenched in sweat from the last three hours of making weekend deliveries, running back and forth between the restaurants. The streets of Japan were practically abandoned, COVID regulations still in effect to curb the spread before the summer 2021 Olympics. This, of course, didn’t apply to the army of delivery workers on bikes speeding through town to make their deliveries. All your competition and, unfortunately, the reason you weren’t making enough deliveries to meet your end goal. 

How many years had it been since Oikawa’s text? One, two years? The text had been  _ so  _ casual, like it wasn’t a big deal or anything.  _ Oh, by the way senpai, I’ll be in Japan for the Olympics. _ Like it hadn’t been nearly a decade since he had stepped foot in Japan, as if he hadn’t renounced his citizenship to become a naturalized citizen of Argentina. The fucker, acting like you wouldn’t immediately facetime him, ugly sobbing and stammering about how he’d be back in Japan, on the same soil as you and his old team members.

For the past few years, ever since he left for Argentina, you had been collecting pictures from your former captain, every Snapchat and instagram, literal gigabytes of his photos being transferred to every new phone you got. Sometimes you’d pull the albums out to show close friends, bragging about Oikawa and just  _ how  _ amazing he was. Not that anyone cared, of course. It was your niche that you had.

And in return, the former captain would frequently facetime you, completely drunk and smashed, his drunk smile and laughter greeting you in the mornings. Sometimes it was just the thing you needed to get your week started, his stupid drunk antics over in Argentina. Your facetime sessions weren’t just for when he was drunk, of course. He was  _ insistent  _ on having two or three meals together a week over facetime, regardless of what the time was in either of your countries.  _ Food isn’t dictated by time _ , he’d tell you everytime he was making his supper while you were brushing your teeth in the morning. Anytime he had big news or a big announcement, you and Iwaizumi would be the first to hear it from him, the three of you grabbing drinks anytime he had an announcement.

All of this was for him. Not for the Japanese Olympic team, not for Iwaizumi (well, partially for him). It was all for Oikawa.

And there you were, body drenched in sweat as you sat on a bench, bike resting next to you as you clocked out for an hour long break to catch your breath. Despite having a full time job that managed to convert perfectly to a work from home position, you just weren’t quite making enough money to afford your grand plan. The ticket packet you wanted for you, Mattsun, and Makki, paying for everyone’s meals and drinks after the entire event. Your full time job managed to pay for your bills and groceries and allow you for some extra fun money, but not the fun money you  _ needed  _ for the Olympics.

Unfortunately for you, you had gotten into the meal delivery business a bit too late, the job being flooded by the COVID-19 pandemic. On a good day, you managed to get about half the deliveries that long time delivery workers earned. And thus, there was a  _ very _ real likelihood you wouldn’t be able to afford everything you wanted. 

“Hey, [L/N], right?” You turned your attention to the man standing in front of you, a gray-haired man with lazy eyes.  _ The owner of Onigiri Miya, right? How does he recognize me?  _ You asked yourself as you looked at him. “Yer workin’ yerself to death. Come into my shop, I’ll whip up some food for you.”

“Thank you for the offer, but-”

“That wasn’t an offer.” That statement wasn’t one of reassurance, but rather an acknowledgement of the sweat pouring down your neck and back. It bordered something as a threat, punctuated by him opening the door to his store and lazily raising his eyebrows at you.

“I… Okay,” you quietly agreed as you stood up, groaning as you felt the soreness and achiness in your legs. Damn, how long had you been making deliveries today? Three hours.  _ Guess I should take a break _ , you think as you step into the empty shop. 

You’re immediately greeted by a cacophony of smells--seafood, spices, various cooked and grilled meals. A massive growl rumbled deep in your stomach, and you could feel drool collecting in your mouth as your face turned an embarrassingly bright red shade. The interior of the shop was completely empty, minus one white and black haired man standing at the counter, unloading packages of rice. COVID guidelines had struck the country’s restaurant industry hard, but Onigiri Miya seemed to be completely unaffected by it.

“Lose yer job with the pandemic?” The owner pulled down two barstools as he gestured you over. “Osamu, by the way. Have a seat. What would you like? I’m experimentin’ with a few recipes and could use some feedback, if ya wouldn’t mind.”

You kindly took the barstool, groaning as you sat down in the chair. Jeez, you  _ were  _ out of shape.  _ This is embarrassing. _ “[L/N] and uh, no, sir. I’m working from home with my office job during the weekdays. This is just to make some money on the side.”

Osamu laughed, placing a glass of water and a menu out in front of you. “No need for the formalities here, we’re the same age, I reckon”

You quickly selected three different types of onigiris, realizing that you had actually never eaten here before. In fact, you realized just  _ how  _ ridiculous that was, given that this place was the most popular restaurant for you to deliver from. You just never had the opportunity to sit down and order some food, given how busy you were on the weekends. Plus, you were eating from home to save money to afford the special packages for the Olympics.

It didn’t take long for you to understand just  _ why  _ this place was so popular. Even the most simple of the onigiri you ordered made you almost drown in drool. It was almost embarrassing how quickly you went through the onigiri, with you apologizing every once in a while to the store owner. He simply laughed, chatting with the white and black haired man dropping off the store’s rice. You learned the man’s name was Kita, the former captain of Osamu’s high school team.

“You played volleyball, Osamu?” You asked before sipping on another glass of water. You were also dehydrated, which you had failed to realize before sitting down. Kita took it on himself to scold you for not taking better care of yourself, as if he had known you for ages.

“One of the best teams in the nation,” he responded, handing you the platter of the experimental recipes. “Here, let me know how these are. Don’t eat them too quickly, now.” You started on the platter, making mental notes on the individual taste profiles and how well they worked together. “You into volleyball, [L/N]? Did ya play in high school?”

“I didn’t play, but I managed Aobajousai up in Miyagi for my three years in high school. Oh, and all three are great, but you may want to lighten up on the ginger on the second one. It’s a bit overpowering.” Osamu nodded at your feedback, writing it down on a piece of paper behind the counter. “We never made it to nationals, so you probably wouldn’t know any of the players.”

Osamu scratched his chin, squinting his eyes as he looked at you. “... Karasuno and Shiratorizawa were from Miyagi, right? Those two were both a pain in the ass in high school.”

“Ugh,” you grumbled unhappily at the two names. “They’re both the reason we didn’t make it to nationals. Shiratorizawa, mostly, with that ridiculous Ushijima. Then  _ Karasuno  _ shows up out of nowhere and takes nationals away from us our last year.”

Both Osamu and Kita laughed at your rant, your ears turning bright red as you realized how  _ passionate  _ your rant had been. “Yep, they did the same for us. Well, knocked us out of nationals after the second round.” He sighed heavily, leaning over the counter as he reminisced over his high school years. “Came back the next year to whoop their asses, though.  _ That  _ was satisfying.” The store owner jerked his head towards a flyer he’d had attached to the cash register. “We’ll be havin’ a watch party for the Olympics at the shop. I can make a reservation for ya. We’re a bit limited with COVID regulations and all.”

You shook your head politely, sighing heavily. “Thank you, but… I’m actually going to the Olympics. You see-”

A hearty laugh came from Osamu over your confession. “I reckon that’s why yer workin’ so hard. Well, with how much I see ya on the weekends, you more than deserve it.” He pulled out his personal phone, sending a quick text. “I didn’t think the tickets were that expensive. Yer weekday job makin’ ya that little?”

You shook your head, pulling out your phone to show Osamu the ticket package you were planning on getting. “No, they aren’t, but this package deal is. It gets you a ticket to get autographs from one of the athletic teams at the event, and it’s in limited stock with COVID regulations and all.” Osamu took your phone, scrolling through the details of the package with a mildly interested look. “I’m looking to get three. One for myself and two more for my friends. I, uh, I made a promise to someone a long time ago and I’m looking to keep it.”

You weren’t  _ quite  _ sure how to explain to Osamu that the promise you had made was with the Argentinian setter that team Japan had practically been training and prepping for  _ years  _ to defend against. On one hand, you desperately wanted to brag about how amazing Oikawa was, how proud you were of him and his progress. Take out all the pictures from snapchat and instagram that you had saved to numerous albums on your phone, like he was your toddler learning all the basics to life or something.  _ Oh god, he’s gonna see that when he gets here _ , you realized as you took the phone back from Osamu. Unfortunately, you were in Japan, so there wasn’t much you could brag about.

“I think yer friend is lucky to have ya, [L/N],” Kita remarked as he took a bite into a fresh onigiri roll. “But ya shouldn’t be pushing yourself that much. Especially in the middle of a pandemic. What happens if ya can’t go to the Olympics because ya got sick?”

You sighed heavily as Kita voiced exactly what was on your mind every weekend. What if you  _ did  _ get sick? What if you had those long lasting side effects that were being reported from the United States? You asked yourself these questions almost daily, and you were  _ constantly  _ taking your temperature and taking immune support supplements. But still, the thought always sat in the back of your mind.

“Hmmm, [L/N], let’s make a deal.” Osamu put his personal phone down, turning his attention back to you. “Ya work for me on the weekends. No more deliveries, so ya got a lower chance of getting sick. But… You and your friends come to  _ my  _ restaurant after the Olympics. Deal?”

Your eyes widened at his offer. You’d barely  _ known  _ this guy, literally less than two hours, and he was already offering you a job at his restaurant. Your words tumbled out of your mouth as you struggled to collect your words. “I, uh, yes! Oh my goodness, yes! Thank you so much!”

“But ya gotta hold yer end of the bargain.” Osamu’s voice was verging on a threat. “That’s the deal.”

\----

“Oh my god, you’re like a little child, [L/N]-senpai.”

“I-shut up, Makki! I’m just excited to see the game!”

“Hmmm, I don’t know Makki, there’s literal children here that are less excited than senpai.”

“ _ Mattsun. _ ”

Laughter erupted between the two Aobajousai grads, their laughter ballooning their masks in and out. You  _ were  _ like a little child, you had to admit, with your rocking back and forth on the balls of your feet. The three of you all stood together in line, waiting for the COVID temperature checks to enter the Olympic arena. Not like there was anyway that you could  _ possibly  _ have COVID. The amount of tests and regulations you were subjected to for the last month was almost enough to guarantee you’d never get COVID.

It had been, what six months ago? Yeah, about six months ago since you had gotten the tickets. Jeez, so much had changed in this short time. You’d started working full time at Osamu’s restaurant, quitting your full-time office job after realizing your passion for cooking and the great atmosphere of the shop. Shortly after that, you managed to nab the three tickets. You had  _ planned  _ to surprise Mattsun and Makki with the tickets for a New Year’s gift but, to be honest, you had called Mattsun hysterically crying over getting the tickets. 

_ “Mattsun, I got the tickets!” you ugly sobbed over the phone, sitting in the bathroom while wiping the ugly tears falling out of your eyes. “I got us the tickets!” _

_ “Uh, congrats senpai?” he asked, confused over why it was such a big deal as he sat in his apartment office. _

_ “We’re going to the Olympics!” _

And that’s when he started crying over the phone, the first time in a long time you had heard the hardened funeral employee cry over anything. Immediately after, the two of you facetimed Makki to tell him the news, the two of you ugly crying. And then it became a massive boohoo, snotty-faced cryfest between the three of you, all sponsored by facetime. 

And now, the reality of it all was setting in on you again as you stared up at the gym, tears starting to form at your eyes. You could feel your chest start to tighten up.  _ Oh god, please don’t decline my dumbass from entering because I’m crying too much, _ you prayed. Someone nudged your elbow, and you looked down to see Mattsun offering you a packet of tissues. You gratefully accepted tissues, dabbing away the tears as you tried to avoid sniffling too hard.

“Don’t cry too much, you won’t be able to see the game.” Makki commented, wrapping an arm around your waist as you moved up. Mattsun’s hand quickly found yours, his thumb rubbing the top of your hand. 

“I’ll try not to.” You laughed, dipping down to get your temperature taken. The three of you were admitted, no concerns raised, and quickly ushered into the stadium to find your spots.

Oh, the best part of the ticket package? Court side seats, closest you could get. Mattsun, Makki, and you found your way to your seats after grabbing your meal and beer, all of which you had insisted on paying for (much to Mattsun’s dismay and Makki’s appreciation). You were twitching and rocking side-to-side in your seat, the excitement and anxiety creeping in you as you stared at the empty court in front of you.

Mattsun’s arm immediately found its way around you. “Chill out, senpai. Have you forgotten how volleyball games work? They won’t be out for a while… Wait, is that Iwaizumi over there?”

“Yes, it is!” You shouted excitedly as you noticed the personal trainer. “Oh my god, I  _ completely  _ forgot that he’s working with Japan’s team! Jeez, he’s  _ literally  _ building a team against Oikawa. He must  _ love  _ this.”

Mattsun laughed at your realization. “Yeah, I guess he is. He must be proud of himself.” You didn’t notice the look of adoration he was giving you as you stared at Iwaizumi. You were more concerned about staring at Iwaizumi until he noticed you.

“Wow, completely forgetting your former teammate is working for our national Olympic team. Your bias is showing.” Makki earned himself a solid smack to the back of his head. He just laughed as he sipped his beer. “You should take a picture of him and send it to him, see if he responds.”

“Oh my god, Makki, that’s a  _ fantastic  _ idea.” You immediately pulled out your phone, snapping a picture and sending it to the athletic trainer. Much to your shock, he pulled out his phone, a confused look on his face as he looked at the photo. Immediately, his gaze shot up, making eye contact with you. A wide smile fell on his lips as he snapped a picture of you and sent it back in return.

_ Iwa: [picture attached] take it you’re not here for me? _

_ [Y/N]: Of course not. Why would we be here for Japan? _

_ Iwa: Thanks for the vote of confidence, senpai. It’s great to see you. I miss you. _

Your nerves suddenly seemed to be lessened at the text message as you fell back into your seat, shoulders relaxed as Iwaizumi laughed and turned his attention back to his coworkers. Damn, how long had it been since you had last called him? The two of you usually had weekly phone calls, if not dinner, with each other but with the Olympics coming up, he’d been too busy for really any of that. In fact, the few times you two had spoken to each other on facetime, he’d usually ended up falling asleep at his desk. It didn’t matter to you, though. It put your heart at ease knowing that he was  _ at least _ sleeping.

Excruciating minutes passed as the three of you waited for the game to start, you nervously chattering the entire time. Your knees were bouncing up and down, earning laughs from Mattsun and Makki as they teased you relentlessly. The stadium started slowly filling up, though definitely not as many people with the COVID regulations and everything. And then the lights shut off, hushing the audience immediately as spotlights flooded over Japan’s national team. The stadium erupted in cheers, you and your two third years cheering and screaming all the same. You almost felt your voice go out as Iwaizumi stepped out, the trainer making sure to wave at your group.

Your voice most certainly went out when Oikawa stepped out into the field, causing you to choke on your scream and earning a laugh from Mattsun as he passed you a water. A stupid, childish smile stretched on your mouth as he stepped out onto the court, waving at the crowds. There was absolutely  _ no  _ way he could see you, though that didn’t stop you from flailing your arms at him as he hugged team Japan’s orange haired hitter. Hinata? It didn’t matter to you, really.

“Now the games begin.” Mattsun remarked as the teams lined up, throwing an arm around your shoulder as you both settled into your chairs. “Think you can stay still long enough for the game, senpai?”

“Of course,” your voice was raw as you spoke, earning a laugh from Mattsun and Makki. “Anything for Oikawa.”

\-----

The three of you were the  _ only _ full-grown adults without children in line for the team’s autographs. In front and behind you, high school students and children crowded around with their parents, giddy with excitement as they held jerseys of their favorite players or their favorite volleyball. It was, at that point, when you realized that you hadn’t actually  _ brought  _ anything to sign. In fact, you hadn’t even thought about bringing something to get signed. You were just too excited to see Oikawa.

“We look like idiots.” Mattsun voiced your thoughts out loud.

“Yeah, you do. Here, dumbasses.” Before anyone could process what was said to them, the three of you found volleyballs shoved into your arms. In front of you stood an exhausted Iwaizumi, shoulders slumped over and heavy eye bags beneath his eyes. But on his face, a gentle smile and that loving sparkle in his eyes you knew so well.

Mattsun laughed, extending his hand out in a fistbump that Iwaizumi quickly accepted. “Miss seeing you, Iwa. Drinks after this whole thing? All on me.”

“Yes, please god.” His voice was exasperated as you spoke. “I need to get drinks with  _ all  _ of you. Especially you, [L/N]-senpai.” A few curious glances shot towards you at the use of the honorific. “I promise I won’t fall asleep on you this time.” His eyes scanned across the three of you. “Have any of you talked to him yet?”

You sighed heavily, shaking your head. “No, I can’t get his attention,” you responded. “Oh, wait!” Shoving your volleyball back into Iwaizumi’s hands, you quickly stripped off your Team Japan jacket, revealing your blue Aobajousai jersey. Oikawa’s old jersey he had given you before he headed off to Argentina. “I’m  _ so  _ glad it still fits. You think he’ll recognize it?”

Iwaizumi laughed, passing the volleyball back to you. “It’s  _ Oikawa _ . He’d recognize that damn jersey in the middle of a damn ocean.” His attention turned over to the Argentina league, who didn’t have a line of people for autographs. The group was packing up, Oikawa sitting on the bench, eyes locked on the ceiling as he processed the win that his team had just gotten.  _ Even after all these years, _ you thought, looking at Iwaizumi’s adoring gaze.  _ You are still absolutely in love with him, Iwaizumi. _

As if a sixth sense kicked in, Oikawa turned his gaze up, looking around the gym until his gaze met Iwaizumi’s. Even from afar, you could tell his gaze became clouded with absolute adoration for his old partner.  _ Yep, still in love after all these years. _ Before you could say anything, Iwaizumi stepped out of the way, jerking a thumb towards you.

Just the  _ look _ on Oikawa’s face was worth the pain and stress of the last few months. His eyes widened, a child-like grin slapped on his face as he stared at you. He looked around at his team wildly, taking a moment to analyze his surroundings before breaking into a  _ dead sprint  _ towards you. Before you could even process what was going on, you found yourself pulled over the guardrail, crushed against Oikawa’s chest as he lifted you off your feet, face dug into your shoulder as a free hand found your hair.

Yes. Absolutely worth these last few months. The tears you had been stockpiling over the last few years started spilling out of your eyes as a choked sob escaped your throat, digging your face into his neck. You couldn’t tell if it was a combination of sweat or tears that was collecting on your shoulder. You didn’t care. The only thing that mattered was Oikawa was back, and he was right in front of you. And it  _ wasn’t  _ a dream this time.

At some point, Mattsun and Makki had stepped over the guardrail (or maybe Iwaizumi had allowed them through, you couldn’t tell) and joined in on the hug, wrapping their arms around you and Oikawa. You wished Iwaizumi could join you, but you knew that would be wildly inappropriate in the current circumstances. That would come later. But for now, you just needed Oikawa back in your life.

“How many years has it been?” You could feel Mattsun’s voice rumble in his chest as he pulled away, ruffling Oikawa’s hair. “Hey, you’re as tall as me now! Congrats!” He stuffed a packet of tissues towards the setter. “I brought these for my senpais. That way you can’t complain about how mean I am to you, Oikawa.”

Oikawa pulled away, eyes stained red from the tears that had streaked down his face. He took the tissue, either ignoring Mattsun’s comment or not hearing him at all. A tear filled smile covered his face as he stared down at you.

“You came… You came and you saw me win, [L/N]-senpai.”

“Yeah.” Your answer came out a choked out sob as your shoulders trembled from the question. “I did, Oikawa. I came here for you.”

You found yourself pulled into his chest, his grasp somehow even  _ tighter  _ than the hug before. At this point, you knew the entire line was probably looking at you weirdly. Out of the corner of your eye, Iwaizumi stared off into the distance. You knew that if he looked at the four of you, he would start crying on the spot. And that was fine. He’d get his opportunity later, you promised yourself that much.

“I-I need to get back to the team. Clean stuff up, get ready for the ceremony.” Oikawa reluctantly pulled away from you, placing a chaste kiss on your forehead as he wiped away your tears with his thumb. “Wiping away your tears  _ and  _ a forehead kiss? That’s a premium fan exchange right there. I should charge you for that one.” The laugh that escaped his lips was choked as he tried to lighten the mood.

“Ugh,  _ fuck you _ , Oikawa.” You weren’t any better as your laugh came out choked and garbled, blowing your nose with a tissue Mattsun handed you. “You free after the ceremony? Tonight, I mean. For supper.”

Oikawa’s hands gripped each side of your face as he stared directly into your eyes. “I will  _ literally  _ change my entire schedule for you if you asked me to. Yes, I am free tonight.”

“Good,” you smiled, placing a hand on one of Oikawa’s. “I have a deal I need to complete.”

\------

“Oikawa, do you  _ really  _ have to wear your Olympic gold medal? We’re literally just going to the onigiri shop I work at.”

“Well, how are people supposed to know that  _ I  _ beat the Tokyo Olympic volleyball team, [L/N]-senpai?” Oikawa rubbed his face, whipping his freshly cleaned hair around. It hadn’t occurred to you how tan he was until he was walking beside you and the other two third years. “Besides, I need to be recognized  _ somehow _ since I’ve been gone to Argentina for so long.”

“So if we get mugged, it’s your fault, right?” Makki inquired, earning a snort from Mattsun. “And you’ll compensate us for all the damages?”

“ _ Makki _ ,” you scolded the strawberry blonde, reaching in your pocket for the key to Onigiri Miya. “Anyway, all three of you, I want you all to be on your best behaviors. No being too drunk, be respectful, blah blah blah.” A click rings out, and you hear the distant chattering in the restaurant die down. Were there multiple people working tonight? Probably loads of orders with the last night of the Olympics. “It’s all on me, so eat as much as you want tonight.”

Oikawa gasped loudly, appalled by such an accusation. “Well,  _ excuse me _ , I am nothing but respect…. ful.”

Both you and Oikawa stopped in your tracks as soon as you stepped into the shop. In front of you, at a single table, everyone turned to you wide eyed, mouths agape, stood the Japanese Olympic volleyball team. It was like someone had vacuumed up  _ everything _ , noise, air, it felt like an outer space vacuum with the silent that lingered in the shop. Behind the counter stood Osamu, looking at you with the most expressive shocked face that you think you’ve ever seen.

“When ya said ya wanted to go to the Olympics to watch the volleyball game,” it was Osamu who cut through the stunned, heavy silence. “I expected ya to want to meet… ya know,  _ our  _ team… Not the  _ team that whooped our team’s asses. _ ” You heard a snort of laughter from behind you. Mattsun? Maybe Makki. “So I made reservations for them after the Olympics.”

A  _ scream  _ of laughter from Mattsun erupted from behind you, followed by a choked out laughing fit from Makki. The two had been keeping the door open to the shop, which you heard shut as they excused themselves to have one of their obnoxious laughing fits outside of the shop. It didn’t fix anything, though. You could still hear the two screaming as you and Oikawa grew beet red over this conundrum.

“I-uh, um,” you rubbed your hands together, throwing up an awkward peace sign because  _ what the hell were you supposed to say _ . “I may… uh… have forgotten to mention that… um… I used to be the manager of Aobajousai? I, wait, no, I mentioned that. And Oikawa was the captain at the time, and I, uh…” You rubbed the back of your neck awkwardly, faintly registering the sound of the shop door opening behind you, “wanted to surprise him… Sorry, I should have told you beforehand.”

Mattsun threw an arm around you and Oikawa’s shoulders, resting his chin on Oikawa’s shoulder. “Well,  _ I _ think this is a  _ damn  _ good surprise.” His voice was rough from his earlier laughing fit, and you could hear a choked cough coming from Makki. “Look, even Iwaizumi is here! It’s a happy little reunion. Thanks for this, senpai, you  _ really _ thought everything out for us.”

“I-Iwa!” you managed to stutter out. You hadn’t even  _ processed  _ the athletic trainer, whose jaw was  _ literally  _ on the floor at the scene playing out before him. “I, uh, I am  _ so sorry _ about this. This…  _ none  _ of this was my inten-”

“You’re the one with that scary block!” The shortie, orange haired opposite hitter had practically jumped up from his spot at the table, pointing a finger directly at Mattsun. What was his name again? Hinata?

“I, uh-” It was Mattsun’s turn to be taken off guard, his eyebrows raised in shock at the compliment. You let out a snort of laughter, earning yourself a light smack on the back of the head from the former middle blocker.

“Wow, an Olympic level volleyball player is complimenting you Mattsun, and all you can do is look at him slack jawed,” Oikawa’s voice was bordering on a reprimand. Damn, it had been a  _ long  _ time since you had heard one of those. “You could  _ at least _ thank Shoyo for the compliment.”

“Right, uh, thanks?” Laughter erupted from you and Makki, allowing you the opportunity to escape from Mattsun’s grip and head towards the counter. “I… honestly don’t know how you remember that. That was…  _ years _ ago. Damn, almost a decade ago. I don’t even play volleyball anymore.”

“Right, you can’t exactly play volleyball with dead bodies, Mr. Undertaker.” Makki elbowed the former middle blocker in the side, earning himself a smack on the back of the head. “Anyway, I’m starved.”

Your group seated themselves at an empty table across from the Olympic team, the team glaring as they sat as you walked up to the counter. “I am  _ so  _ sorry about this, Osamu.” You bowed to your boss, face hot with embarrassment. “I should have told you this beforehand. I just wasn’t sure how you would respond if I told you I was going to the Olympics for the Argentinian team.”

Laughter erupted from Osamu, his thumb jutting out towards a blonde member of the Japanese Olympic team. “Hell, I would’ve paid for yer tickets had I known  _ this  _ would have happened. That oaf over there is my twin.” You turned your attention to where he was pointing, now embarrassed that you had  _ never  _ noticed the similarities between the two. The athlete looked completely dumbfounded and overwhelmed by the entire debacle going on in front of him. “ _ That  _ is worth it. Anyway, I got started on some of our more popular dishes since I didn’t know what to expect. That work for you and yer friends?”

“I-yes, that’s perfect. It’ll be all on my account.” You locked eyes with Osamu, his eyes filled with exhaustion. “I really owe you, Osamu. Seriously. I can never repay you for this. Do you need any help in the kitchen?

“Ya don’t need to repay me, [L/N]. Yer one of my best employees.” He scratched his chin, squinting his eyes. “Hmmm, if ya don’t mind serving the first batch, I’d appreciate it. Our server for tonight went out for a quick break to drop off food for her folks, and I’ve been dealin’ with my pain the ass of a twin.”

You didn’t even ask questions, nearly leaping over the counter as you stepped into the back of the kitchen. Osamu just laughed as you entered the back of the kitchen, you adding the finishing touches on the onigiri like it was second nature. Stepping out of the kitchen, tray of onigiris in hand, you noticed Oikawa and Osamu chatting at the counter, Oikawa’s gaze gentle as he laughed.  _ Are they talking about me?  _ You thought as you headed towards your table. Oikawa glanced at you from the corner of his eye, giving you a playful wink.  _ Yeah, they’re definitely talking about me. _

The evening was a complete blur. A pleasant, happy blur filled with happy tears and laughter, but a blur nonetheless. Onigiri and beer seemed to just appear at your table, Oikawa managing to somehow drink endlessly. Tales of his experiences in South America echoed throughout the night, with the occasional Hinata chiming in for stories about Brazil. At some point, you found your head resting on Oikawa, his arm thrown over your shoulders

“Senpai, remember that you promise I made you when I left Japan?” Oikawa nudged his nose into your neck, the smell of beer on his breath. You weren’t quite sure if he was tipsy or simply just being himself. How high of a tolerance did he have, anyway? You wondered if you wanted to know that answer, recalling all the Snapchats you had received while he was gone to South America.

“You mean when you promised me that you’d only come back and talk to me when you were proud of yourself?”

“Mhm. And guess what?” In one swift movement, you found an Olympic gold medal hanging around your neck, Oikawa’s chin resting on your shoulder as he spoke. Stunned, you stared down at the gleaming medal around your neck. “You deserve the medal, too. You’re the one who turned me into who I am, after all… I think I finally see what you wanted me to see in me. You  _ really  _ thought that highly about me for so long?”

For the umpteenth time that day, you found tears spilling out of your eyes over Oikawa.  _ Damn it, not in front of the boss, _ you thought, wiping your tears away with the back of your hand. Oikawa gently cupped your face with hand, placing another chaste kiss on your cheek as he wiped away any spilled tears. He pressed his forehead against your temple, giving you the opportunity to just enjoy his presence in the middle of the drunken revelries happening.

“Your boss  _ loves  _ you, by the way. Absolutely adores you. We were talking about you. I  _ really  _ don’t deserve you, senpai.”

“Oh, shut the fuck up, Oikawa. You deserve more than what I can offer you.” You sniffled, carding a hand through Oikawa’s hair. “And yes,  _ that’s  _ how I saw you all throughout the three years of high school.” A content sigh escaped Oikawa as he hummed with approval, pressing another peck on your temple. 

“Hey, hey, Oikawa, don’t make [L/N]-senpai cry too hard now. We all know what happens when they cry too hard.” Makki’s voice  _ dripped  _ with snark as he looked at the tears spilling down your cheeks. “Don’t want to be stuck in the bathroom again tonight.”

Smacking him lightly, you wiped away the tears with an indignant huff. “I’ll have you know, I haven’t puked in  _ years  _ from crying!”

“ _ Bullshit _ , absolute  _ bullshit _ .” Mattsun laughed, digging into the fresh plate of onigiri set out in front of your group. “You called me six months ago crying so hard that you were stuck in the bathroom.”

“I didn’t puke though!” At this point, curious gazes from the Tokyo team were making their way to you. “I… I just had something in my eye that I couldn’t get out without a mirror. Besides, we were  _ all  _ crying over facetime! That’s proof enough I didn’t puke!”

“Is that really brag worthy though?” A voice asked from the Olympic table. It seemed to belong to the blonde haired setter. Atsumu, right? Osamu’s twin. “It ain’t normal to puke when ya cry, ya know.” A loud smack rang throughout the shop, and the team burst into a bout of laughter. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see a black-haired player slowly shifting his mask up as he stared at you.

“By the way, senpai, remember that Ouija board you had to pick up for us? How did you get rid of it?” Iwaizumi’s voice interjected from across the room, breaking his conversation off with the JVA manager. You and Oikawa’s backs stiffened as your posture suddenly became absolutely perfect. “Ushijima-san has a Ouija board from high school that he needs to get rid of. Any advice on how to take care of it? It keeps showing up, no matter where we put it.”

You and Oikawa completely froze, not a single breath exchanged between the two of you as you stared straight forward, not making eye contact with Iwaizumi. Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit. That was  _ years  _ ago, almost an entire decade ago, that the two of you had left it at the Shiratorizawa gym as a funny little prank.  _ Harmless,  _ little prank. It wasn’t like it actually worked or anything… right? 

“Senpai?”

“I, uh, I can’t quite remember… That was a  _ really  _ long time ago.” You stole a sip of Oikawa’s beer,  _ praying  _ that it would help calm your nerves and keep Iwaizumi’s attention away from your horrid lie. There was  _ no  _ way that it could be the same Ouija board that you and Oikawa had dropped off at Shiratorizawa. “What does it look like? Do you have a picture?”

“Here.” You hadn’t expected just how commanding Ushijima’s voice would be in such a small room. He pulled his bag out, placing the Ouija board on the table. You stared in horror at the Ouija board, immediately recognizing it the minute it hit the table.

“Ushijima-san, did you  _ really  _ have to bring that with you?” It was the team’s libero that had spoken up, pushing himself away from the Ouija board. Bokuto and Hinata immediately crowded the thing, along with the six foot eight middle blocker. Oh wait, shit,  _ both  _ the middle blockers were six foot eight. You panicked internally as you tried to figure out which one was looking at the Ouija board. You mentally scolded yourself for not knowing the starting line of your nation’s team.

“I didn’t bring it with me.” Ushijima pointed at the Ouija board. “It’s always in my bag. It’s been like that since the third year of high school.” You couldn’t quite tell if he was concerned about it or not, his voice completely plain and emotionless.

Shit. It  _ was  _ the board you had dropped off at Shiratorizawa so long ago. Oikawa chugged his beer, motioning for another beer from the waitress on staff. The both of you were trying to avoid eye contact with Iwaizumi, with you taking particular interest in the ceiling.

“ _ Oikawa. _ ”

“It was-!” Before Oikawa could jump to his defense, Mattsun’s curious gaze caught on.

“Oh, that looks  _ exactly  _ like the one we picked up at the festival!” He elbowed you in the side. The look on you and Oikawa’s faces suddenly hit him and a grin crept on his lips. “You’re joking…  _ No _ .”

“ _ Oikawa, _ ” Iwaizumi’s voice was a threat now. “What did you do to that Ouija board?”

Oikawa’s hands slammed on the table as he stood, a finger immediately thrown at you. “It was senpai’s idea! Senpai suggested we leave it at Shiratorizawa!” You leapt up from your seat, slapping a hand on Oikawa’s mouth, eyes wide as you stared at Iwaizumi. The Olympic setter immediately threw your hand off like you were just a small child. “Why am  _ I  _ the one that always gets scolded?! This was all [L/N]’s idea!”

“Because they’re nice and take care of the team, Shittykawa!” Had the two of them not been in a cafe, you just  _ knew  _ that they would be having a go at each other. The Japan Olympic team looked absolutely  _ horrified  _ at the scene unfolding in front of them, everyone turning their attention to watch.

You waved away the JVA manager (Kuroo? You couldn’t quite recall, to be honest) as he stood from his chair to try and hold back Iwaizumi. “It’s fine, this happens all the time. He deserves it, anyway, Olympian or not.” It wouldn’t matter, really. Not like a JVA manager could hold the athletic trainer back. Out of the corner of your eye, you noted Makki unhappily passing Mattsun some yen, the latter grinning smugly at his friend.  _ Of course _ those two had made a bet on something.

“You’re the one who suggested it!” Oikawa’s lips jutted out in a pathetic pout as he dramatically fell back in his chair, arms and head thrown back over the back of the chair. “I am the  _ victim  _ here, senpai. Treat me like one.”

_ Ah, there’s the old Oikawa,  _ you thought as you playfully hit the setter in the shoulder, earning yourself a mischievous wink from him. “Sorry, captain. I’ll try to be nicer next time. Would you like me to hand feed you to make up for it?”

“Don’t embarrass yourself like that, senpai.” Iwaizumi had pulled up a chair at your table, stealing one of Oikawa’s onigiris, seemingly cooled down already. Damn, this all was really bringing back memories, your eyes misting over as you watched him. “That’s pay back since I can’t hit you anymore. He’s still a pain in the ass and pain in the asses don’t deserve hand feeding treatment.” He looked down at your chest, eyeing the Olympic medal placed around your neck by Oikawa, a gentle smile growing on his lips. His eyes twinkled as he stole a sip of Oikawa’s beer. “Anyway, you owe me, Oikawa. You’re figuring out how to get rid of that damn thing before you go back to Argentina.”

“ _Ugh,_ fine. As long as I get a day with all four of you. _And_ you can’t bully and tease me the entire day.” Oikawa’s response was dramatic as he lifted himself back up, straightening himself up as he sipped from his beer. You noted the loving gaze exchanged between him and Iwaizumi, your chest warming up. Was it the beer in your system or the absolute love and adoration you held for the two? You couldn’t tell, but you knew that you would personally kick Iwaizumi’s ass if he didn’t _at least_ spend a day with the four of you.

Glancing over his shoulder, Iwaizumi noted that his team was too busy playing around with the Ouija board to care about what was going on with your table. Whipping back around, he grabbed Oikawa’s chin with one hand and roughly kissed his former captain. “Jackass.” 

A smile formed on Oikawa’s lips as the athletic trainer pulled away. “Missed you too, Haji-chan.” He pulled Iwaizumi forward again, pecking him gently on the lips. “I’ll be here for two weeks. I’m expecting _at least_ three days with you.”

“Deal.” Iwaizumi’s voice had softened significantly at the decision, a relieved look falling on his face. Fuck, you had missed these two. Fuck, you had missed this.

The evening started dying down, the exhaustion of the day finally hitting everyone in the restaurant. Iwaizumi ended up cutting off Makki at some point, Mattsun was drunkenly flirting with you, and Oikawa seemed stone cold sober. You were a giggling mess, crying every once in a while at a memory that one of your boys had brought up as they recalled high school. You paid for your group’s meals and beers, not even registering how much it was in your brain. That was a problem for future you. Right now, you just needed to be back with your team.

Your group stepped out of the store, waving good-bye to all your old and new friends. Iwaizumi watched sadly as your group left, chatting quietly with Kuroo.

“Hmm, I still owe Iwa drinks.” Mattsun realized as he walked down the road towards your apartment. “I don’t think that counts since you paid for them, senpai.”

“Yeah, you still owe me Mattsun.” Iwaizumi’s voice came from somewhere behind you, and you turned to see the trainer jogging towards your group. “Don’t worry, I got permission to head home with you. Kuroo’s completely sober and can take care of the team.”

“Good.” Oikawa grabbed Iwaizumi’s hand, lacing his fingers together with his. He quickly turned his attention back to you, eyebrows raised. “One more cuddle puddle? For old time’s sake.”

\---

And so, you found yourself outside your apartment door in your hallway, Iwaizumi having taken your keys from you to open your apartment door. You and Mattsun stood in the hallway, taking a moment of silence between you two. You stared at him, realizing that you did, in fact,  _ still  _ have feelings for him. After all these years, you  _ definitely  _ still had feelings for him, and you were a dumbass that didn’t realize it.

“Look, I’m an idiot, senpai.” You couldn’t respond before Mattsun grabbed you by the waist, his lips crashing on yours. A squeak escaped your mouth as you suddenly tasted the beer and onigiri the funeral employee had just eaten before. Your hands found his hair as you tangled your fingers, him pulling away for a quick breath. “Biggest fucking idiot on this planet. Fuck, what did I do to deserve just having someone like you in my life.”

You giggled, pressing your hands against his chest as you stared at him. “I’ve known that since the first day of volleyball club, Issei.” You pecked him on his lips, taking his hand as you led him into your apartment. “We’ll talk later. Oikawa will probably whine if we’re gone for too long.” His hand tightly gripped yours as you walked in, maybe because he was drunk or just that needy. It didn’t matter; you really needed this show of affection from him, you quickly realized as you stepped into your apartment.

In your kitchen, Iwaizumi passed out glasses of water to the group, quickly shoving a glass in you and Mattsun’s hands. You smiled gratefully at the trainer, quickly gulping it down and setting it down in your sink. Mattsun followed suit, but not before teasing Makki, who was struggling to drink the glass of water.  _ Oh jeez,  _ you rolled your eyes at him.  _ Lightweight.  _ Oikawa stood in the kitchen, perfectly fine as he laughed at Makki.

“Hajime, did you hear from Shoyo about our adventures in Brazil?’ A heavy sigh escaped Iwaizumi’s mouth, evident that he was wondering if he wanted to know what had happened in Brazil. “We were  _ banned  _ from every bar in one town… God, that was probably the best weekend, if I’m gonna be completely honest. Wish you could have been there, Hajime. You would have  _ loved  _ all the attention you would have gotten.” The captain wasn’t even slurring his words as he spoke,  _ completely  _ sober in fact. You were  _ terrified  _ to know just what type of partying had gone down in Brazil. Most importantly, you were scared of just how high his tolerance was.

“You fucking idiot.” Iwaizumi laughed at his partner. “Come here.” Oikawa’s arms wrapped around Iwaizumi’s waist as he pulled him in for a deep kiss. You couldn’t help the smile that was falling on your lips. Your cheeks burned from the amount of smiling and laughing from today, your chest tight and body aching with exhaustion. “I missed you, Toru.”

“Mmmm, missed you more.” The two stood in your kitchen, basking in each other’s company in your kitchen. They needed it, you figured as you started putting the now empty glasses in the kitchen sink.

Mattsun had since escorted Makki to the bathroom, but you couldn’t tell if there were any tell-tale signs of vomiting.  _ Hopefully he’ll be quiet for these two’s sake, _ you thought, quietly sneaking by the two into the living room to get set up for the evening. A hand flew out, grabbing your wrist and you squeaked as you were pulled into Iwaizumi and Oikawa’s hug.

“Come here, [L/N].” Oikawa’s voice was filled with adoration as he and Iwaizumi’s arms wrapped around your waist. Both of them kissed your forehead, tears starting to form in the corner of your eyes. “Osamu told me everything you did back at the cafe. You told me to come back proud of myself, so I’m telling you this now. I want  _ you  _ to understand that you are the best thing that has ever happened in our lives, and there is absolutely nothing I could do to pay you back.”

“ _ Oikawa _ ,” your voice came out in a whine as you felt the tears threatening to spill over as you dug your face into his chest. “Makki’s already puking in the bathroom, and this is a single bathroom apartment and I cry when I get drunk. Where will  _ I _ puke if I get too emotional?” 

Oikawa’s laugh rumbled in his chest as Iwaizumi stepped behind you, pressing his head in between your shoulders. “Fine, fine, I guess you don’t need compliments from the  _ Olympic athlete that beat the Japanese volleyball team. _ ” You felt Iwaizumi smack Oikawa across the face. “Love you too, Hajime. Anyway, living room or bedroom?”

“Bedroom. I’m sleepy. There’s a tv in there as well we can watch. Umm,” your brain started mentally trying to place everyone on your bed. This was harder when you were drunk, emotional, and tired. “We should check up on Makki first though. See how he’s doing.”

“I’ll take care of him,” Iwaizumi declared, pulling away from the hug. He placed a gentle kiss on your forehead before he headed to the bathroom. “What did I tell you all those years ago, [L/N]? You should have believed me.” A smile crept on your lips as you remembered Iwaizumi telling you about how much Oikawa gushed over you as a manager.

“Wait, wait, wait. I don’t like being left out. What happened? What did I miss?” Oikawa’s voice was almost demanding as he loosened his grip on you, staring at Iwaizumi. “Iwa-chan, what happened? Senpai?”

“Nothing,” you giggled, dipping into your bedroom to get things set out. “Just something from a few year’s back he told me, don’t worry too much about it.” Oikawa’s lips jutted out in a pathetic pout as he followed you like a little puppy dog. “Okay, he may have told me how much you talked about me and how much you adored me as a manager. I’m assuming you want to sleep with your medal on?”

Oikawa unceremoniously flopped onto your bed, claiming his spot for the evening. His clothes were off in an instant, left with only his boxers on. “I mean, of course you were. And you still  _ are. _ Why do you think everyone still calls you senpai even after graduating years ago? Hell, you’re still saved in my phone as my manager.” He pulled you close to him the moment you laid down on the bed, now changed into an oversized sweater and shorts. “And I want you to keep it on. I have too many medals at home the way it is, so I can have the experience any time I want, and I want you to experience it just this once. You deserve it.”

For the first moment of the night, you took the medal in your fingers, running your fingers over every groove on it, taking in the moment and the importance of the situation. Exhaustion hit you as you meditated on the medal for a minute, everything that had happened to you hitting you like a tidal wave. Your head slumped over, pressing against Oikawa’s forehead. He chuckled quietly, kissing your temple as you meditated.

“Hey, move your ass, Toru.” Iwaizumi’s voice broke up your conversation as he stepped into the bedroom, Mattsun falling behind him. “Makki will be sleeping in the bathroom tonight. He’s fine, we’ve got a jug of water in there with him. And some bread as well.” He quickly stripped down into his boxers, sitting on the edge of the bed as you and Oikawa moved over.

Mattsun stared at the group, a stupid grin slapped on his face. “I can just  _ imagine  _ the headlines if the tabloids caught a hold of this image right here,” he noted as he walked over to the other side of the bed, falling suit with the stripping. “Argentina volleyball setter found in bed with team Japan’s personal trainer, a restaurant worker, and a funeral employee. More at nine.” He slipped in next to you, throwing an arm over your waist as he rested his chin on your head. “Not that I’m complaining, though.”

“God, I don’t even want to imagine that,” you mumbled as you snuggled into Mattsun’s chest, keeping one hand free in case someone wanted to hold it. Next to you, Iwaizumi rested his head on Oikawa’s chest, immediately taking claim to your free hand. Oikawa’s free leg quickly became entangled with yours as he threw an arm over your pillows.  _ If only I had more hands,  _ you thought, staring up at your ceiling.

A comfortable silence fell on the four of you, Iwaizumi rubbing his thumb over the back of your hand. Mattsun was already snoring, his breaths becoming deeper as he fell deeper into sleep. At some point, you couldn’t tell when since you were drifting off into sleep, Oikawa had flipped over on his side, throwing an arm over your waist as he pulled himself in to spoon you. An unhappy, sleepy grumble escaped from Iwaizumi as he fought to get your hand back from Oikawa.

All of the fears, anxieties, eight hour shifts. All of it worth it, you decided as you dozed off with everyone in your bed. And you knew, you just knew, that you would do it  _ all  _ over again just to have a single moment like this again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> buy me a coffee?
> 
> https://www.buymeacoffee.com/regretrograde


	6. Shiratorizawa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shiratorizawa cuddle puddle with Semi, Shirabu, Yamagata, and Goshiki. 
> 
> Reader is gender-neutral with possible hints of one-sided romance from Semi towards reader.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw: vomit
> 
> also have y'all seen the reveals for the siblings??? i'm obsessed. translations can be found on twitter @leoppii if you're curious

Stone-faced. Stoic. Unshakable. Unbreakable. _Emotionally constipated._ You’d heard just about everything about Shiratorizawa as their manager of three years. The compliments, the criticisms, how your team tended to scare the shit out of all their competitors. The whispers, the screams, the frustrations as your team broke down wall after wall in their matches. Anytime someone said something about your team, you simply smiled and laughed, be it positive or negative. What they knew about the team was _nothing_ compared to what you knew as the manager.

But when you found your team losing in the finals of the Miyagi Prefecture representative play-offs to _Karasuno_ , you were absolutely gobsmacked, unable to speak as the ball bounced out of bounds following an unsuccessful receive from Yamagata. Mentally, had they been beaten by Aoba Johsai, you had prepared yourself to give words of reassurance to the team. When they were defeated by Karasuno in the semi-finals, you relaxed, thanking whatever higher power there was that you wouldn’t have to be giving that speech you had mentally prepared.

But there you were, standing there, Goshiki sobbing, comforted by Yamagata, various members of the team with tears spilling out of their eyes. You wanted to run to Goshiki, comfort him, comfort all your team members, you wanted to cry for them (you _hated_ seeing them cry and wanted desperately to take away whatever pain they were in). But you couldn’t, your feet glued to the stadium floor, eyes wide, jaw slack, knuckles white as you death gripped your clipboard. Japanese slipped from your mind as you watched your team line up in front of you, exhaustion, sadness, anger, shock etched into their faces like chiseled marble. In that moment, your heart shattered into pieces and for a moment, you weren’t sure if you would ever be able to mend it.

“Close your mouth, it’s disrespectful,” Coach Washijo scolded you before turning his attention to the team.

“S-sorry, sir,” you managed to stammer out. Your chest started to burn, your throat tightened as all your emotions threatened to spill over. _Damn it, keep it together. For them. Break down in the bathroom, damn it, not here. They need you._ You straightened your back out, swallowing the lump that was starting to rise in your throat.

“We’ll have a meeting when we get back,” you could barely recognize the coach’s words as you stood in front of your team, throat straining as you forced yourself to swallow your budding tears.

You excused yourself to the hallway as the team cooled down, running for a trash can. At that point, you couldn’t tell if you wanted to sob or puke. Maybe both? Your chest was burning, your eyes flung wide open as you stared into the bottom of the, thankfully, empty trash can. How could you ever recover from this? How could your _team_ recover from this? Shit, you were the team manager. You should be out there comforting everyone, making sure they’re okay. But here you were, doubled over a trash can, fighting the urge to vomit as your heart continued to shatter into a million pieces.

A large hand rubbed in between your shoulder blades, bringing yourself back to reality. Your entire body tensed, thoughts running as you tried to figure out who it was. Had you not felt like puking your guts up, you would have turned around. You couldn’t handle the shame and embarrassment of potentially puking on someone in that moment

“Breathe for me, [L/N]-senpai. Do you need me to get you water?” Reon’s soothing voice greeted your ears. _Thank God it isn’t Tendo_ , you thought to yourself as you turned to the third year. You found yourself throwing your entire body into his arms, heading resting on his chest. Asking no questions, he ran a hand up your back, tracing soothing circles in between your shoulder blades as you choked out your sobs.

“S-sorry,” you managed to choke you in between sobs, “I should be with the team, n-not sobbing over a trash can.” You attempted to pull away from the third year, only to be pulled right back.

“You don’t have to carry the burden of the team, we can take care of ourselves. This is your loss just as much as it is ours. Again, senpai, do you need me to get you anything?”

 _Ugh, why does he have to be correct and so wise all the time._ “I… I just need this,” you mumbled as you wrapped your arms around Reon’s waist, digging your face further into his chest. At this point, your face was absolutely _drenched_ in his sweat and you could feel a breakout starting. “If the coach gets you in trouble, I’ll take the blame. I… thanks.”

Silence fell on the two of you, sounds of the gymnasium becoming background noise as you calmed yourself down in the hitter’s arms. The urge to vomit finally subsided, the lump in your throat going down with it. Now it was just a sniffle, your shoulders shaking with each breath you took. You had never been close to Reon, admittedly, especially since he was one of the players you didn’t particularly have to worry about. But he knew exactly how to calm you down, what to say, what reassurances to give you as the manager when you were feeling down after a lecture from the coach. If you were the damage control for the team following the coach's harsh criticisms, Reon was your own personal damage control for the coach's criticisms towards you.

Pulling away, you wiped your tears (and Reon’s sweat) from your face, letting out a shaky breath. “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t expect that loss to hit me that hard. I just…” You shook your head, trying to stop more tears from flowing. “I-I need to get back to the team, load up the bus so we can get out of here. You all need me.”

“[L/N]-senpai, we can take care of ourselves.”

You knew that, they were all big boys (a questionable statement, you thought). But it was the absolute least you could, after a loss like this. Take care of the small things, get them their favorite foods, stock up your room on instant ramen and maybe make a cheap, makeshift hot pot, put on their favorite movie or reality show. Everyone says that it’s the big, bold things that count but in your experience, you’ve had far better experience dealing with the small things.

The ending of the tournament was a blur. The awards ceremony, the bus packing, the ride back to Shiratorizawa. All a blur as you stared blankly, not making eye contact with your team. Thankfully it was a silent ride home, with the occasional snoring from a knocked out team member. Reon had insisted on sitting next to you, his hand gently rested on your thigh all the way home. At one point, he was running a thumb up and down the back of your hand, bringing you back from your completely zoned out state. 

It was Ushijima’s criticism (criticism? Maybe it was more of a statement. You honestly couldn’t tell with him, even after 3 years of being his manager) of his juniors that brought you back to reality fully. You finally looked your team in the eye, faces covered in exhaustion and puffy eyes from crying. _Who is in the worst shape_ , you asked yourself as you ran up and down the line. Based on how much he’d cried, Goshiki would most definitely be by at some point, probably crashing in your dorm room for the night. Shirabu? _That’s_ a big question mark, like always. In this situation, the likelihood was increased. Yamagata? Probably, given his relationship with the first-year ace.

You felt an elbow nudge your side, bringing your attention to the gray haired setter next to you. He didn’t have to say anything; you just knew.

“30 minutes,” you stated, giving Semi a gentle pat on the back. “Give me 30 minutes to settle everything here and get everything set up back at my dorm.” 

The setter was silent, arms folded across his chest, tired eyes watching his juniors as they received their words from Ushijima. Whether or not he heard you, it didn’t matter; you both knew the drill after three years of being with this team. Based on the small tear trailing down his cheek, he was probably more focused on _not_ breaking down in front of the team. No one would have judged him, but you knew it made him uncomfortable showing too much emotion in front of his team as a third year. He always knew he had a cup of tea, some soft words of reassurance, and a safe place for him with you. It _was_ , afterall, your job to balance out Coach Washijo’s criticism and hard hitting words.

You were true to your word. Well, sort of. Not in all aspects. You may have flubbed on counting the amount of serves the team did. It was more like seventy or so serves instead of the one hundred they were supposed to do. Thankfully the coaches had left early, letting your team get a break and get away with it. Nets were broken down, balls put away, all within maybe fifteen minutes. _Fifteen minutes to get myself cleaned up before Semi is over_ , you noted to yourself, half-heartedly jogging back to your dorm room from the gym. _Maybe I can not look so much like a mess._

It was easier said than done, really, taking a look at yourself in the mirror. Your hair was sticking out everywhere, greasy from sweat, your eyes were puffy, probably able to carry groceries with how big your under eye bags were at this point, a line of tiny red pimples already forming from where Reon had held you in his hug. _Damn it,_ you though, slapping pimple patches on your face. _I looked like this in front of the team? That’s embarrassing._ Slipping out of your manager uniform, you threw on a pair of workout sweats and one of the sweaters your team members would leave at your dorm room. 

“How many people,” you mumbled under your breath, pulling out additional seating from underneath your lofted bed. You, thankfully, had a single dorm room to yourself, allowing you to have the team members with no complaints from roommates. Well, except for the times that school grounds keepers would bust you. “Three at the minimum, those three seated on the bed, and I only have two additional chairs… Maybe I can just…”

Thoughtlessly, you pulled an additional blanket out, throwing it on the floor to act as a makeshift bed sheet for anyone that crashed in your room for the night. “Pillows,” you mumbled to yourself, hunched over like an old hag as you started tossing extra pillows onto the ground, followed by a few blankets. “Hmmm, I need to get the rice maker started. Should I just invest in some additional futons? Having to get all this stuff out is really annoying…”

“Senpai, if you’re not careful, someone will think you’re the evil witch from Howl’s Moving Castle.”

You nearly pissed yourself at the sound of Semi’s voice, eyes wide like some cryptid that was just caught stepping out of a forest. The hunch in your shoulders and hair you forgot to brush down probably didn’t help the image either. Shit, was it that time already? You hadn’t even heard the third-year come in. Wait, didn’t you lock your door?

“I, uh, yeah, I guess,” was all you could sputter out as you looked at the third year. His eyelids were heavy, hair wet and disheveled from what you _presumed_ (and hoped) was a quick shower, wearing a simple tank top and sweatpants. The familiar sensation of your heart breaking started up in your chest again, and your gaze immediately softened as you looked him up and down. 

He looked absolutely broken.

“Go ahead and get comfy. I-I don’t know who all will be over tonight, so I’m just going to get some rice started.”

The third year simply nodded, quietly falling onto your bed, staring blankly up at the ceiling. _It won’t hit him yet_ , you thought to yourself as you started washing the rice. _He needs me._ Setting the timer on the rice maker, you sat on the edge of your bed, a stagnant silence filling the room.

“We lost, senpai.”

“I know, Semi-san.”

“Eita,” he mumbled, pulling you towards him. “And I want your lap.”

“You know the deal, I’ll only call you Eita if you stop calling me senpai,” you retorted, resting your back on your pillow as Semi flipped over onto his stomach, digging his face into your stomach. Immediately, your hand went to his hair, carding your fingers through the gray, ridiculously soft hair.

Silence once again filled the room, only interrupted every once in a while by noises from your room’s aging heater and your aging rice maker. Semi was a quiet cryer, the only indicator of him sobbing being the heaving of his shoulders and the wet feeling on your sweater. He didn’t need any words of reassurance, for the moment, just your hands running through his hair. Just time to process.

“Three years,” you mumbled, softly gazing down at the third year sobbing into your stomach.

“Three years of nationals,” he shakily finished your sentence, taking in a shaky breath. “Three years of being on the volleyball team, three years of going to nationals. That’s what I was hoping for.”

“But it’s still damn impressive that you went to nationals for two years. _And_ you were the main server for those two years you went to nationals. Yeah, it really sucks that we didn’t make it to nationals our third year, but let’s celebrate what we’ve accomplished!” You tightened your grasp around the third year, awkwardly trying to hug him from the position you were in. “I’m so proud of you all. And so I’m damn happy I was convinced to be the manager for this team.”

Silence fell in the room as the setter seemed to calm down, his shoulders no longer visibly shaking. From the other side of the room, the rice maker went off. “Three years with you as manager…. You remember-”

“No, Eita.”

A choked laugh escaped his lips as he flipped over on his back, eyes puffy and red from the tears that had just been flowing out of his eyes. Your sweatshirt was damp, not that it mattered much, as he plopped his head back on your stomach. “You thought my head was a volleyball and you yelled about some weird soft volleyball?”

“ _Eitaaaaaaa_ ,” the whine you let out was absolutely _pathetic_ as he started bellowing out in laughter. _God_ , how could you forget that incident when you frequently fell asleep to it for the last three years. It was one of your first days as the first-year manager and you were picking up volleyballs. In your defense, Semi’s hair was _much_ shorter than what it currently was and you just thought it was another old volleyball!

“How _did_ you manage to not see the rest of me?” he choked out in his fit of laughter. “I mean, I know I’m one of the shortest on the team, but I’m a pretty lanky dude.”

“You were behind the bench! I couldn’t see the rest of you from where I was standing!” Your hands flew to your face as your face erupted into a bright red blush. 

“Oh, so you _do_ remember it?” Semi playfully removed your hands from your face, staring directly at your tomato red cheeks. “Ya know, I’m just gonna text you every year _just_ so you don’t forget it. We’ll make it an anniversary date! Get some coffee, do some face masks...”

“Oh my god, _no,”_ you squealed, lightly slapping his hands away from you. “I’ll do the coffee dates, but I _will_ block you if you remind me of that incident. I don’t care.”

“Mmmm, no, you’re too nice for that,” the setter declared, sitting up from his spot. _At least he’s in better spirits now,_ you thought as you rolled your eyes. “Jeez, with your whining and complaining, you’re starting to sound like-”

A small knock interrupted the conversation.

“-Goshiki.”

“One moment!” you shouted to the visitor, crawling off your bed and quickly changing your sweater into a different sweater. _Whose is this shirt?_ You wondered, thoughtlessly putting yourself back together. In the corner of your eye, a waft of steam blew into Semi’s face, causing him to recoil and swear as he tried to get his food. Letting out a little giggle, you shuffled towards the door, opening to find a sullen, defeated Goshiki.

 _Oh baby,_ you thought to yourself as you embraced the first year ace, his face immediately finding your shoulder. You had _such_ a soft spot for Goshiki, to the point a certain second year starting setter (with horrid bangs) had started referring to him as the team’s baby. Honestly, you couldn’t help it, with the boy’s eagerness and excitement to do well in volleyball. He was like, well, he was like a little puppy dog, so excited by _everything_ and so excited to do well and make everyone happy. Like a fresh breath of air for the team, which was a bunch of hard asses. _If only you had a nicer team. Maybe next year._

“I know, I know,” you mumbled under your breath as you ran a hand through his hair. You could feel the telltale signs of dampness starting to collect on your shoulder. “How about you come in and curl up on my bed. I have blankets and everything. Semi’s here, is that okay?” The first year nodded as he sniffled into your shoulder. “I’ve got rice in the rice maker if you’re hungry and food in my fridge. I can make you up some noodles if you’d like me to.”

“-t’s okay, maybe later,” Goshiki mumbled, detaching himself from your shoulder and shuffling to your bed. Semi lightly pat the first year on the back, all too familiar with that feeling of defeat, before the ace took his spot on your bed, back pressed to the wall, knees pulled to his chest as he peered over his knees. You quickly took your spot back on your bed, throwing an arm over the first year’s shoulders, running a hand through his hair.

“If you’d like,” Semi chimed in, leaning against the wall close to the door, food in hand. “I can run back to my dorm and get my guitar. Sometimes my sister calls me after a rough school day and asks me to play for her and that always seems to calm her down.”

You turn your attention to Semi, eyes wide. “Eita, that is the sweetest thing I think you have ever said.” Before the setter could respond, you continued. “As much as I would love to hear that, I don’t want to risk you getting caught by grounds.”

“That’s fair,” the setter responded, taking up his spot next to you on the bed. “You think Shirabu will come by? I’d… ah… I’d rather not deal with him tonight, sorry, [F/N].” He nervously rubbed his neck.

“Text him, if he does come by tonight, there’s no making quips at others,” you sighed. Admittedly, you’d rather not deal with him, especially with how much hee tended to berate and criticize Goshiki. As a manager, you technically _weren’t_ supposed to dislike members of your team, but Shirabu somehow managed to dampen the spirits of these little self-care sessions you had with the team members. It was easier to deal with him one-on-one or with an upperclassman like Reon or Ushijima. “He may want to come by to study, I don’t know. But just… you know. Goshiki, are you comfortable with Shirabu possibly coming by tonight?”

“It’s fine.” It seemed that Goshiki had calmed down at least a bit, his voice no longer cracking. “You can deal with him, senpai.”

Truth is, you didn’t… really know how to deal with Shirabu. You’re pretty sure it was just more of a seniority thing than anything. You ruffled Goshiki’s hair. “I just… I’m really gonna miss you Goshiki, you know that, right?” you thought out loud, turning your attention to the floor in front of you. “You’re going to do _such_ good things for this team and as your manager, I’m happy to leave it with you on the team. And I know sometimes you don’t see it, and the team is a bit too critical and harsh to you-” you glared at Semi out of the corner of your eye, the setter shrugging innocently as he ate his rice. “-and one day, I really hope you see what I see in you. Because that’s really all I want for my graduation, for you to see yourself as I see you.”

Silence fell on the room, even Semi stopping his meal as the words lingered in the air. As you tensed up, you felt a hand fall on your shoulder as the setter behind you started rubbing your shoulder. _Shit, did I fuck up? Did I go too far? Was that too much for the first-year? Was that too harsh? God, I hope he doesn’t feel like I was being mean and criticizing him. He doesn’t need anymore of that today._ You started mentally berating yourself. “Goshiki, I-”

The first year flung himself into your stomach, the breath leaving your lungs as his head met your stomach. A small, shocked noise left Semi’s mouth as you were practically shoved back into him. Loud, painful sobs racked Goshiki’s body as he started sobbing into your stomach, one hand immediately finding his back and the other finding his hair as you attempted to soothe him. “Sorry if that was a bit too much,” you mumbled while rubbing his back. He only tightened his grasp around your waist.

“N-no…” his voice came out in choked sobs as your sweater once again became soaked. “I’m just going to miss you. You’ll visit us, right?”

A small laugh escaped your lips at the boy’s sweet, innocent request. “Of course, I’ll try to visit you when I can. But I can’t promise when that will be, with university and everything.”

“You know,” Semi had placed his bowl of food on your nightstand, throwing his arms around yours, rubbing the first year’s back. His chin quickly found your shoulder as he sighed heavily. “You could always visit us, send us updates on your tournaments. I’m sure [L/N]-senpai wouldn’t mind a visit.”

“B-but… you won’t be the team manager.”

“Ahhh, but I’m already training your next team manager to know all the ins and outs of the team.” Literally, you had full _binders_ of information about the team. They’re favorite foods, favorite places to eat, how to deal with the Coach when he’s in a piss poor mood. A friend of yours had commented just _how_ creepy it was to have that information on hand and, to be quite honest, it probably was creepy looking in from the outside. “I’m sure they’ll be even better than me once we’re done with training. But, of course, I’ll make sure to visit you all and stay in contact.”

“I-I guess,” your words seemed to have placated the first year at least some, with his racking sobs now turning into quiet sniffles in your lap.

The door clicked, and you immediately tensed, eyes shooting towards the door as Yamagata stepped in, Shirabu in tow behind him. _Ah, the Goshiki defense squad_ , you thought to yourself as Yamagata found himself on the edge of your bed running gently placing a hand on Goshiki’s back. _Just Yamagata and I. Damn shame no one else is like us on the team_ . Admittedly, Yamagata is one of the reasons you hadn’t snapped the heads off of some of the first and second years yet, specifically Shirabu. _Far_ more patient than you were.

As you had expected, Shirabu had study materials in tow, seemingly all of his textbooks along for the ride. Studying was how he coped, you had noted within the first month of knowing the second-year. Anytime practice was bad or the coach had scolded him for something, it was right to the books he went. _At least he’s studious,_ you thought, watching the second-year take a seat near your bed, back turned to you. Your hand quickly found his hair, quickly running through it before turning your attention to Goshiki.

“I’m so proud of all of you,” you mumbled, yawning as a warm, familiar comfort drifted over you. It was nights like these you would miss, everyone quietly sitting in your room. Well, maybe _not_ nights of losing finals to an unknown team and not going to nationals for the third year in a row. But, the sentiment of it all, everyone in one room together, not bickering for once. “You’re more than welcome to stay in my room for the night. Blankets and pillows are already laid out and…”

The faint sound of snoring from Goshiki interrupted you, and a small laugh escaped your lips as you looked down at the first year.

“Well, I guess that answers that question.” Semi laughed, flopping onto your bed behind you, whacking his head on the bedrest. “...ow.”

“Please don’t give yourself a concussion, Eita.” You sighed, flopping next to the setter, Semi’s arm quickly found its way underneath you, pulling you close to him. “That’s like… The last thing you need right now. Hey, Shirabu, could you pass me a pillow and blanket?”

Silently, the second year passed a pillow and blanket. “I don’t know how long I’ll be up,” exhaustion dripped from his voice. _Sooner than you think, Shirabu,_ you thought, putting the pillow behind Semi’s head and tossing a blanket over him. “I’ll shut everything down once I’m done here.”

“Hmm, that’s fine. Help yourself to some food, there’s desserts in the fridge and freezer if you want anything sweet.” You announced, nestling yourself into your pillow. Semi quickly found himself throwing his arm around you once he was settled, lacing one of his legs with yours, trying to avoid waking up Goshiki. “Don’t worry about cleaning it up in the morning, I’ll take care of everything. You all deserve a rest.”

“What would we ever do without you, [F/N]?” Semi mumbled, pushing his face closer to yours. You could never tell if Semi was flirting with you, or if he was just especially physically affectionate. Maybe his love language was touch? You didn’t really care, especially with the smell of cologne surrounding you as you dozed off, Goshiki’s snoring echoing in your ears.

\-----

You don’t know when you woke up, All you knew is your limbs were all very numb and tingly when you did, an arm thrown over your neck, nearly choking you with surprise. Blinking open your eyes, painfully attempting to avoid getting any in your eyes. A groan escaped your lips as you lifted your head to take stock of your room.

At some point during the night, Shirabu had curled up and joined you on the bed, stealing your right arm as he snored on your chest. Semi was in his same position from the night before, cradling your head with his arm resting on your neck. Goshiki, still asleep on your stomach, now stretched out as his legs hung off the end of your bed. At some point, Yamagata had slipped off the bed, the libero curled up on the floor next to your bed, giving up the bed for his juniors.

 _Damn,_ you could feel tears starting to well up in your eyes as your head fell back onto your pillow, staring up at the ceiling. _I’m really going to miss this. Maybe I’ll come back just for this._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> buy me a coffee?
> 
> https://www.buymeacoffee.com/regretrograde


	7. Shiratorizawa ii

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You're sick and the team takes care of you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i fell asleep to haikyuu one night and had a dream about making shirabu green tea. semi was there as well, but i can't remember what he was doing exactly. i wanted to make a sicfic after that
> 
> no tw or cw needed for this chapter
> 
> fav hc: goshiki gives the best hugs and no one can argue with me on this subject

“Shirabu-kun isn’t here.”

“Have you heard anything from him, Ushijima-san?”

“No, I have not. This is unusual for him.”

You sighed heavily, pulling out your phone to see if the second year had messaged you. It  _ was  _ unusual for Shirabu to be late to practice without texting you or one of the coaches. Yeah, he would occasionally run behind if he had questions to ask a teacher or a project he needed to finish up. Even then, he would somehow manage to shoot you a message to give you at least a five minute heads up. But there you were, staring down at your phone, no messages popping up on your screen. You shot him a quick message before putting your phone back into your track pants pocket.

“Hmmm,” you tapped your pencil against your clipboard, eyebrows scrunched as you looked at the rest of the team as they went through their stretch routine. “Has anyone heard from Shirabu?”

“Last I heard, he has a big test this week. Maybe the time got away from him?” Ohira chimed in, looking up at you. “I can run to his dorm room and see if he’s there.”

“No, no, you all go ahead and warm up, I’ll see if I can get in contact with him. If he doesn’t message back in five, I’ll call him and see what’s up.” You pulled your phone out again. No response, not even a ‘seen’ notification. “It’s not a big deal, it happens. Go back to your stretches everyone!”

Five minutes passed. No response. You called, hanging up when it went to voicemail.  _ This isn’t like Shirabu _ , you thought, biting your bottom lip as you scrunch your eyebrows together. There was a bug going around in the third year homerooms, though you were pretty sure it was more allergies than anything. Nah, Shirabu was careful. Hell, he was going into the medical field when he graduated. He knew how to take care of himself, he was a big boy. 

Well, add onto the stress of that big test that Ohira was talking about, extra practices for an upcoming match, coach Washijo being on everyone’s ass seemingly 24/7, even for things that they can’t control. Maybe, just maybe, he had caught that bug that was going around the third year homerooms.

“Coach Saito, would you mind if I go check on Shirabu?” Even though you weren’t a particular fan of the second year, you  _ were  _ their parent away from their home. “I haven’t heard from him, and this isn’t normal for him. He’d have texted or called me by now.”

“Of course, go right ahead.” The coach took your clipboard, waving you away as he turned his attention to it. “I’ll make sure coach Washijo understands. We haven’t heard anything from him either, so I’m sure he’d appreciate it if you checked up on him.”

You bowed politely to the coach before taking your leave from the gym. First, you made a quick trip to your dorm room. What if Shirabu  _ was  _ sick? Does he have medicine, tea, food? Had he eaten that day? You poked around through your room, trying to find anything to help if he was sick.  _ Damn, it’d sure be nice if you texted me back, Shirabu, _ you complained to yourself, filling a bag with turmeric tea, candied ginger, and cheap miso soup.  _ Hmmm, I need to stock up before flu season hits. I’m running a bit low. _ Slapping on a disposable mask  _ just  _ in case, you headed to the second year’s room.

\---

“Shirabu?” you called out as you quietly knocked on the door. No response. You tried the door handle. Unlocked. “Are you in there? Are you okay?” Again, no response.

_ Alright,  _ you sighed as you opened the door, unsure of what to expect. Hesitantly, you peered in, finding a relatively clean and organized room with a slumped over Shirabu at his book covered desk, a blanket draped over his shoulders. Was he asleep? Did he fall asleep while he was studying? You walked up to the boy, placing a hand on his shoulder.  _ How long has this alarm been going? _ You wondered, looking at the alarm on his phone that was going off. You quietly dismissed the alarm, noting that he had set it for fifteen minutes before practice.

“Shirabu.”

He woke with a startle, instinctively pulling the blanket over his shoulder tighter. “[L/N]-senpai… when did you get here?”

“The door was unlocked, so I let myself in. You were late to practice and didn’t text anyone, so I came up to check on you.” You noted the distant, glassy eyed look on his face as he stared at you, skin pale and cheeks flushed.  _ Shit. _ “Shirabu, are you alright?”

“I’m fine.”

“Have you been to the nurse today?” You felt his forehead with the back of your palm and as you anticipated, he was  _ burning  _ to the touch. You didn’t need a thermometer to know he was running a nasty fever. “Damn it, you’re burning up, Shirabu. Get in bed and I’ll call the coach.”

“I’m  _ fine,  _ senpai. I’ve been studying all day for my exam and I dozed off and lost track of time. I just need to get dressed and head to practice.” Shirabu got to his feet, shuffling to his door only for him to collapse right into your arms from exhaustion. Tiny trembles had taken over his body at this point, and you felt a thin layer of cold sweat touch your exposed arm.

You sighed heavily. Why were these players so damn stubborn about practice? “Bed, now.” Gently shoving the second year off of you, you lead him back over to his bed, pulling his covers back. “I had a feeling you were sick so I brought some soup and turmeric tea for you. Here, have these candied gingers while I get these ready for you. They’re-”

“Good for inflammation and fevers, I know,” Shirabu grumbled as he slowly lowered himself into bed. “I’m going to med school, remember?” His head hit his pillow with a gentle thump. “Why is my room spinning?”

“The room isn’t spinning,” you feebly attempted to reassure him, prepping some water for the tea and soup. “It’s just your fever; you’ll feel better  _ after _ resting. Are your washcloths in your closet? I don’t want to go snooping around.”

“I _don’t_ have a fever and I’m _not_ sick. I just… dozed off while I was studying.” _He sounds like a little toddler being forced to lay down for a nap._ You reflected as you wetted a washcloth you found lying around, hoping it was clean. “Besides, if I were sick, _you_ wouldn’t be taking care of me because _you_ would get sick and also have to miss practice.”

Yep, sick as a dog. While Shirabu frequently criticized Goshiki and some of the other first years on the team, he was always courteous to the third years, always making sure to keep on good terms with his seniors. This was… well, really the first time he had talked back to you as the manager.

“Because I’m the manager and I’m easily replaceable.  _ You  _ are a member of the team and hand-picked by Coach Washijo.” You placed a mug of turmeric tea and some miso soup on his night stand, followed by a cold washcloth on his burning forehead. “I’m replaceable. You aren’t. Now, this is my last warning. Sleep. I’ll run down to the infirmary and see if they can send someone to check on you tonight. Text me if you need anything.”

Something seemed to click in Shirabu as he settled into his bed, tucking himself into his blankets as the cold washcloth cooled him down. Though, really, he looked like he was casting some curse on you, eyes glaring at you as he pulled his blankets up above his mouth.  _ You’ll thank me later, Shirabu. _ You stepped away from the bed, going over to Shirabu’s desk to put away his belongings and at least  _ attempt  _ to organize the mess that was in front of you. Science textbooks and notes littered the desk. Yeah, there’s  _ no way  _ he retained any of that information with that nasty fever.

Looking over your shoulder at Shirabu, you heard a gentle snoring.  _ Thank god he’s actually sleeping _ . You shut off the lights to the room and left, quietly closing the door behind you.

\------

“[L/N]-senpai is sick?!” Semi’s voice echoed through the gym, drawing the attention of everyone on the team that hadn’t heard the news. The third-year grimaced, instantly regretting just how loud he had just been following a harsh stare from Coach Washijo. “I mean, a-are they alright, at least? Do they need anything?” 

Ohira nodded quietly, pulling out his phone. “They texted me earlier today to ask about homework in our homeroom class, so they must be feeling well enough to be thinking about schoolwork.” He showed the text thread to the mildly distraught third-year setter. “I can ask if they need anything.”

“No, no, I’ll do that,” Semi grumbled, pulling out his phone. 

_ S: Do you need anything? _

_ S: Have you eaten anything today? _

_ S: We have a free practice today and I can probably sneak out. Do you need food from the cafeteria? _

[L/N]-senpai  _ always  _ knew how to take care of the team, nurse their injuries back to health, fix a cough or congestion overnight, fix their sore and achy muscles. But sending these messages back-to-back, Semi realized that he really  _ didn’t  _ know how to take care of someone sick. What was that tea senpai always gave them when they had inflammation? Ginger? Or was it turmeric. Wait, maybe it wasn’t tea. Soup, maybe? Wait, what if they needed to be hospitalized?

A faint ping brought Semi back down to the present.

_ [L/N]: I’m fine, Semi. Thank you for your concern though! <3 _

A small breath he didn’t realize he was holding in left Semi’s mouth at the text message. “Yamagata, you want to stop by their room after practice? Drop some stuff off, do some homework? It can’t be too bad.”

“They’ll recover in a day, give or take, so don’t worry about them too much. They probably got it from me when they came to check up on me.” Shirabu’s words were more of a statement than a show of concern for you. “They wouldn’t want you to get sick. After all, we can’t be replaced.”

“You could  _ at least _ show a bit of sympathy, Shirabu,” Yamagata responded, walking over to Semi. “[L/N]-senpai isn’t exactly replaceable either, you know. This team would fall apart without them. I’m honestly not even looking forward to practice today, even if it’s a free practice day.”

Shirabu snorted, tossing his practice jersey on. “Well, [L/N] certainly doesn’t believe that.” Glares from the two third years immediately greeted the second year. In fact, it looked like Semi could serve a volleyball right into the back of his head. “Not my words, their words. They recognize that they’re replaceable, unlike the players on the team. It’s not like they were hand picked by Washijo-sensei like the rest of the team.”

The look on Semi’s face was absolutely  _ feral _ as Shirabu spoke, his shoulders hunched like some beast about to lunge on its prey. Yamagata quickly put an arm out in front of the third year, eyes wide at his teammate’s suddenly feral and possessive behavior. It seemed the rest of the team had overheard Shirabu’s remarks, concerned whispers and glances suddenly popping up as they all stared at the trio.

“Get yer asses readied up! Stop gawking, we don’t have all day!” Coach Washijo’s harsh command echoed throughout the gym, immediately whipping everyone into shape.

“Semi,” Yamagata turned his attention to his fellow third year, eyes filled with concern. “[L/N] doesn’t believe that… do they?”

Semi let out a breath as he grabbed a volleyball from the cart. “We need to go check up on them afterwards, that’s all I know. I need to know for myself. But for now…” The setter lined up his serve, aiming directly for the back of Shirabu’s head. “I have some aiming practice I need to take care of.”

\----

“[L/N]-senpai, we’re coming in!”

Semi’s sing-song voice echoed through the dorm hall, arms full of food from the cafeteria and goodies from a nearby grocery store. On his back, his acoustic guitar and a backpack full of textbooks to study from. Next to him, Yamagata’s load was significantly lighter, him arguing that he “simply wanted to take care of senpai and show his appreciation towards them”. What Shirabu had said earlier during practice had lingered in the third years’ minds, both of them desperately wanting to show their appreciation towards you. Most importantly, they wanted you to know that  _ you  _ weren’t replaceable like you had told Shirabu.

On top of all of that, both felt guilty for  _ not  _ showing their appreciation to the point that you apparently thought you were replaceable.

“We have masks on, so don’t worry about getting us....” As Semi and Yamagata stepped into your room, they realized just  _ how  _ bad it was. “Sick.”

There you were, sat straight up on your bed, blanket draped over your head and wrapped tightly around you. Textbooks were splayed out all over your bed, surrounding you like some magic summoning ritual. But you weren’t looking at any of them. Instead, your eyes were closed, your body perfectly still as you simply sat on your bed, still as a statue. Your face was pale, accented with the tell-tale sign of fever spread across your cheeks. A humidifier was sputtering quietly in the background.

“S-senpai?”

“They aren’t dead, are they?” Yamagata whispered quietly in Semi’s ear.

Gulping and releasing a deep breath, Semi made his way towards your bed, dropping off the food he had gotten for you on your desk, along with his guitar and backpack. Gently, he placed a delicate hand on your forehead.  _ Damn, senpai is really sick,  _ he thought to himself as he removed his hand. 

“They’re fine, just… I guess they fell asleep studying.” Semi turned to Yamagata, giving him a thumbs up. “I’m just gonna… lay them down, I guess? I really don’t want to wake them up.” Delicately, Semi fluffed up your pillow, slowing every one of his actions to the point that it was nearly painful how long it was taking him. Smiling in approval at his fluffing job, he removed the blanket wrapped around you, grimacing at how drenched in sweat it was, and laid your head down on your pillow. “There we go. Yamagata, could you get a damp washcloth for me? Cold, preferably.” Tucking your bedsheets in around you, he pulled the sweat drenched blanket off and threw it in your dirty clothes hamper. “I guess… nah, laundry is too private. Never mind.”

“Here.” Yamagata tossed the damp washcloth towards Semi, who quickly placed it on your forehead. “Do you think we should refill the humidifier?”

“Hmmm, if you want to do that, I’m sure [L/N] would appreciate it…” Semi awkwardly gestured towards the humidifier, which was sputtering and almost empty at this point. “Don’t ask me how to fill it. Do you think senpai has already been to the school infirmary?”

“It’s senpai,  _ of course _ they’ve been to the infirmary.” Yamagata’s tone was matter-of-fact as he quietly refilled the humidifier. “Have you seen all the supplies they keep on hand for us?”

“True,” Semi mumbled, taking a seat next to you on the edge of your bed. Walking in on you deathly still, asleep while sat up had put the setter more on edge than he had realized at first, and he fixed his gaze on watching you breathe while you slept. “We… We didn’t miss any of the symptoms, did we?”

“Don’t worry too much about it. That’s what senpai would say, at least. It’s probably the same bug Shirabu had, the one that’s going around the third year homerooms.” The libero seemed to notice Semi’s intense stare. “What is this, Twilight? Stop staring, it’s creepy.”

“I-right, sorry. Just… I didn’t expect senpai to be  _ that  _ sick when we walked in.” Concerned was laced into the third year’s voice as he stared down at you. He shook his head, walking over to his backpack to pull out his schoolwork. “Hey, would you mind helping me with this assignment? I’m completely stuck on it.”

Trying to distract himself from his concern of you, Semi dug into his studies, flying through the material as Yamagata helped him. 

“S-Semi? Yamagata?” A weak, hoarse voice spoke from behind the two third-years, the both of them immediately turning their attention. “W-when did you get here? Wait, shit, I need a mask.” The two watched as you fumbled for a blue disposable mask from your nightstand drawer.

“An hour, maybe? We were worried about you.” Semi stood from your desk chair, pulling out the bowl of cafeteria food, reconsidering once he felt how cold it was. “I, well, maybe you shouldn’t have that. It’s a bit cold now.” The setter walked over to your bed, taking his place back at the edge of it as your eyes met his gaze. “We found you asleep sitting up. You should have told us how sick you were! It was a free practice day, so we could have taken care of you.. Senpai, no-” The setter pushed you back down as you tried to sit up. “Rest. You need it.”

“You two could get sick,” you feebly protested, turning your attention to Yamagata. “I’m fine. I can take care of myself.”  _ Damn, I’m really sounding like Shirabu now _ , you thought to yourself as you stared at the two. “Coach Washijo would be upset with you two if you got sick because of me. It’s not like you two can be replaced, unlike me.”

“What Shirabu said wasn’t true was it?” Semi visibly cringed as Yamagata blurted out his question. “I mean… Shirabu had mentioned you… You thought you were replaceable because you were the manager and not a player. Did… We didn’t do anything to make you feel that way, did we?”

“I mean…” your voice weakly trailed off as you tried to collect the thoughts in your fever riddled brain. “Yeah, I’ve always known that I’m replaceable. You can find a manager wherever you go. You can’t just find a good volleyball player wandering around on the streets.” You groaned as Semi dapped your forehead, shutting your eyes as your head started throbbing at the effort you just made to think and speak. “And no, you haven’t. It’s just… Honestly, something I’ve known since I started. Especially with Coach Washijo.”

A silence fell on the room as the third years stared at you, mouths agape and eyes widened at your confession. Had you said something wrong? You couldn’t think straight. A fog with stabbing water crystals was wrapped around your brain, and someone was trying to dig your eyeballs out with spoons. At that point in time, you didn’t really care about how the two felt. You just needed someone to take the fog away from your brain.

“S-senpai. Please don’t believe that.” Had you not been so sick and miserable, the look that Semi was giving you would have broken your heart. You tried to pull your hand away as he grabbed it, rubbing his thumb on the back of your hand. “Don’t ever believe that. You are irreplaceable to us. We would go to the ends of the earth for you. What do you need from us? Food, adoration? You name it.”

Your eyes squinted as you stared at the setter, processing everything that he had just thrown at you. You didn’t really have a sense of taste and, to be honest, you didn’t have the energy to really eat. Adoration?  _ That  _ wouldn’t fix your sickness.  _ What would fix my sickness? _ You asked yourself, staring long and hard at the setter. You didn’t quite process the concerned look creeping on Semi’s face as you thought long and hard about what he had just asked.

“Goshiki hug.”

Yamagata choked on the water he had been sipping on as a dumbfounded, shocked face fell on Semi’s face. “What?”

“Goshiki hug. That would fix a lot of my problems.” You pulled the blankets up above your nose as you turned your attention to your blanket. “But I don’t want him getting sick.”

A laugh escaped Semi’s mouth at your innocent request. Though he would never admit it, the setter found it absolutely adorable how much the first year had grown on you. “Would a Semi and Yamagata cuddle work? We’ve already been here for an hour, so it wouldn’t really make a difference.”

“...Fine. But I still want a Goshiki hug.”

“When you recover, senpai.” Yamagata squatted down, pulling out a spare blanket and a few pillows for himself and Semi from underneath your lofted bed. “You’ll get as much as you want. Now scoot.”

You grumbled as the libero pushed you towards the wall, adding pillows around your head and tossing another blanket on top of you. Semi hopped off the edge of the bed, turning the bedroom lights off before squishing up against the wall. His arm quickly found your waist, his chin rested on the top of your head as Yamagata tucked himself underneath your chin, sighing deeply as he did. A quiet hum rumbled in Semi’s throat as he rubbed your forearm.

“I’ll miss this you know,” you mumbled drowsily, eyes slowly shutting. “Not being sick… Just this. Promise me when we can still do this when we graduate?”

“Jeez, senpai, you’re gonna make me cry,” Semi laughed, pressing a chaste kiss on the top of your head. “Hmmm, let’s see where life takes us, how about that? I know I’m still going to need you to keep me sane and level-headed. Least I won’t have to deal with…” His words trailed off as he heard a faint, congested snore coming from you. A smile danced on his lips as he closed his eyes, low hums rumbling in his chest.

“Wish I could fall asleep that easily,” Yamagata mumbled, shutting his eyes as Semi’s hums echoed through his ears. “That’d be nice.” 

\-----

“Whaddya mean they’re both sick! What are you all doing being so irresponsible?!” Coach Washijo’s shouts echoed throughout the gym. Semi and Yamagata had called in that day, leading to the coach’s current first outburst of the day.

“There’s a nasty bug going around the third year homerooms, sensei. It’s the same one I’m still recovering from.” You coughed, rubbing your nose with your hand. “I’ll get them some medicine after practice and call the nurse to check up on them. They should recover in a day or so.” Your fever was gone, but your body still ached from recovering and you could feel your exhaustion already starting. You wondered if you’d actually have the energy to check up on them after practice.

“You’re still recovering, [L/N]. Go home and rest after practice; we can take care of them.” Ohira’s calm voice verged on scolding as he walked over to you, a bag in his hand. “Here. This is for you. The team got together and got you your favorites. As a show of appreciation.”

You stared at the bag, wanting to cry but too exhausted and achy to do so. Tears developed in the corner of your eyes regardless as you took the bag from the third year, digging through the bag to see all your favorite things. Tea, soup mix, instant meals. Everything you could even think of. You let out a deep sigh as you looked back up at the third year in gratitude.

“Senpai!” You turned your attention towards Goshiki, barely processing the first year before he tackled you in a hug, squeezing every single ache and doubt you had in your body. “Thank you for everything you do for the team! We wouldn’t be as good as a team without you, and we’d never be able to find a replacement like you!”

A deep sigh escaped your lips again as you pressed your face into his neck, wrapping your arms around the ace’s shoulders. “I really want to cry, but I’m too tired to. Thank you. I really needed to hear that.”

It all hit you at once. Your last year as captain, graduating and going off to university. You realized you had lied to the first year as tears started falling down your face, soaking his athletic shirt. What the hell, at least you were getting your Goshiki hug. Anything was possible with a Goshiki hug, you decided from there out. Hm, maybe it was time to reconsider your university plans and figure out how to stay in Miyagi  _ just  _ a bit longer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> buy me a coffee?
> 
> https://www.buymeacoffee.com/regretrograde


	8. Inarizaki

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You're overwhelmed with a messy house and the twins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw: descriptions of anxiety attack
> 
> minor spoilers for timeskip
> 
> homie, idk, i had to reread all the Inarizaki chapters and their episodes multiple times to really get a grasp on their personalities and figure out where to fit them. none of them really seem like the cuddling type to me, minus Osamu.

“Okay. Let’s break this all down,” you mumbled to yourself as you stepped into your family’s dining room. “Where do I need to start?”

Your parents had been out for two weeks, a business trip they both had to take care of, leaving you in charge of the house. It was two days before they returned and unfortunately for you, it was also exam season and the house was… Well, it was a mess, needless to say. Piles of dirty dishes sat on the kitchen counter and the sink, leaving almost little room to even prep food. To be honest, you were living on microwave meals and ready made meals from the gas station at this point. The floor was atrocious, various stains having accumulated on the tile (you never noticed how dirty the dining room floor got until these last few weeks) and random food crumbs tracked everywhere. On the table, various textbooks and workbooks you had been working on for the last week.

You didn’t even  _ want  _ to look at the living room, preferring instead to live in your own fantasy realm. Oh, and you didn’t dare to acknowledge your bedroom. When was the last time you had been in your bedroom? To be honest, for the last few nights, you had been falling asleep on the sofa to the droning background noise of late night television shows. You were incredibly thankful that no one had stopped by to lounge around your house these last two weeks. You were practically thanking  _ every  _ higher power that Kita hadn’t stopped by. You simply adored your captain but you knew, you just knew deep in your stomach, that you would break down and cry if he had looked in your general direction at any point during these last two weeks.

Looking back, your last three years as Inarizaki’s team manager had been… Interesting. Not because weird stuff happened, per se, the team was fairly normal in terms of their outside activities, but the team just had a strange modge podge of characters. Not necessarily bad, but it made for weird stories. And weird stress dreams. Like that one time you had a stress dream about the twins getting brain damage resulting in them switching bodies, then Aran switched bodies with one of them at one point, then someone died? You couldn’t remember the details about the dream, but you  _ specifically  _ remembered the day after telling them about the dream the twins ended up spending the day acting like they  _ had  _ switched bodies. Honestly, bless Kita for knowing how to put up with the twin’s antics. You were at a loss on how to deal with them for that day since they were so committed to the act.

A small smile spread on your lips as you started sweeping the kitchen floor. So many memories, shenanigans. Did you have to deal with the team’s obsessive fans? Yeah, absolutely. Did you have to deal with the first and second years getting into weird situations? Yep, almost weekly. But you wouldn’t trade it for anything. 

There was, however, one thing you couldn’t handle. The twins’ fights,  _ especially  _ when they get physical with each other. The first time you saw the scrap in the gym, it had thrown you into a full blown panic attack, and Kita ended up having to send you home for the day to calm yourself down. You always knew the twins made up in the end, but it still hurt. Oh, and the occasional times Atsumu would insult you as the manager when he had a rough week or his training wasn’t going as he wanted it to go. That always hurt, but you knew that Osamu would make him see the light and cheer you up.

“Okay, sweeping is done… wait, I probably should have swept after I took care of dishes, shoot,” you mumbled to yourself, rubbing the back of your hand on your neck. Just  _ looking  _ at the pile of dishes on the counters and sink made your chest tighten with panic. “Okay, let’s see, is the dishwasher empty? Let’s start there.”

Thankfully, you had been slowly unloading the dishwasher throughout the two weeks, just using dishes directly from there instead of from the cabinets, so it was relatively empty already. Just… it would take two or three loads to even get done with the dishes. Maybe you could hand wash them? Well, your parents came home in two days, and that would take you a couple of hours. Would that be enough time to take care of the house before your parents got home? Anxiety started creeping into your chest as you bit your lip, staring down into the dishwasher. Maybe cleaning was completely pointless. There was no way you would have it all done before your parents got home, even though you were done studying for your exams.

A distant cell phone  _ ping _ brought you back to reality.  _ Oh god, please tell me that isn’t my parents telling me they’re coming home early _ , you prayed as you walked over to your phone. Taking a deep breath, you tapped the touch screen, only to be greeted by a message notification and a video from Suna.

It was a fight between the twins he had recorded.

At that moment, you felt your heart plummet into your stomach as you stared wide eyed at the video and blanked out.  _ Calm down, calm down, _ you thought to yourself, touching each of your fingertips with your thumb in an attention to ground yourself. You could feel your mind go fuzzy and blank as you stared at the looping video of the twins scrapping in the gym. Breathing came hard to you as your breaths started coming short and shallow.  _ Breathe _ .

Gripping the table in front of you, you spent the next minute using breathing and grounding techniques Kita had taught you to handle your anxiety. _ Okay _ ,  _ what’s the next step, [F/N]. _ You pulled up the message box, contemplating for a short minute if you should call. No, if you called, that would most definitely result in an anxiety attack.

_ [Y/N]: Is everyone alright? _

_ Suna: Yeah, they stopped. Osamu left and Atsumu’s sulking. _

_ Osamu left. _ Your mind stared down at the text, knowing exactly what that meant. You’d be getting a visit from the gray-haired twin soon.  _ Shit. _ Everything seemed to come crashing down on you. Leftover stress from exams, how  _ dirty  _ your house was, the fact that you were in the last few months of your third year, university applications, job applications. That all too familiar chest-tightening sensation resurfaced once again, tears threatening to spill out of your eyes. You exhaled, taking a moment to take deep breaths and regulate yourself before you went too down the deep end.

“Okay!” you clapped your hands together, as if trying to emphasize that you absolutely, one hundred percent,  _ totally  _ had your life together. “We are going to be fine. We have cup noodles, pudding cups.. Damn it, the rice maker is dirty. I still need to wash it.” You scampered off to load the dishwasher, quietly praying Osamu wouldn’t be here soon. Your parent’s house wasn’t  _ too  _ far away from Inarizaki, but there wasn’t any telling how quickly the twin would be here.

You almost didn’t hear the knock at the door, head stuck in the clouds as you started the dishwasher. In fact, it took him three times to catch your attention. 

“Sorry!” you shouted across the kitchen, unsure if anyone could actually hear you. You opened the door to see the gray-haired twin waiting for you, refusing to make eye contact.

You almost froze seeing him, his right eye already starting to blacken, a thin scratch and various other bruises complimenting it. Once again, tears threatened to spill out from the corner of your eyes as you ushered him in, directing him towards the only clear dining room chair.

“Sorry for the mess, it’s just been… yeah.” You didn’t complete your train of thought as you headed towards your bathroom, trying to hide the defeated slump in your shoulders. “Let me… Let me get some first aid for you.”

Quietly, you pulled out your band-aids, antibiotic ointment, and prepped a cold washcloth, all while taking deep breaths to avoid tears spilling out of your eyes. It wasn’t the fight that wasn’t causing the near anxiety attack. The fight is just the straw that broke the camel’s back, that made you realize just how  _ on-edge _ you had been the last two weeks. You hadn’t snapped at any of your teammates, had you? God, you prayed silently you hadn’t done such a thing.  _ I’ll have to apologize to the team _ , you thought to yourself as you stepped back into the kitchen.

“Sorry, [L/N]-senpai,” Osamu’s apology was quiet as he spoke, his form slumped over in the dining room chair. He looked battered, literally and mentally. “I knew ya don’t like it when we fight, so I talked to Atsumu today, when you’d be gone… But, I guess it doesn’t matter does it?” He rubbed the back of his neck, grimacing slightly at some pain you hadn’t noted before. “I didn’t know where to go after it… I just kinda came here.”

Wordlessly, you gently tipped his chin up, dabbing up the dried up blood from the graze on his check, earning a slight wince. “It’s fine, I’m just glad you feel safe enough to come here after this stuff.” Bandaging the cut up, you turned your attention to the forming bruises. That would hurt for a while. “What was this fight over this time? Anything I can help out with?”

“No, don’t get yourself involved.” A small groan escaped his lips as you applied a bit too much pressure on the forming bruises. “I’m quittin’ volleyball after school, going into food service. He didn’t take kindly to it.” He noted the silence that fell on you after his explanation. “Ya ain’t upset with me, are ya?”

A sigh escaped your lips as you wrapped your arms around Osamu, pulling him into your stomach as you embraced him. The twin responded in kind, wrapping his arms around your waist as he let out a deep breath he had been holding in. Carding your fingers through his hair, the two of you simply existed in the silence, dishwasher humming quietly in the background.

“No, I’m not upset with you, ‘Samu,” You pulled away, gently grasping Osamu’s face as you looked down at him. “I could never be upset with you. Do I hate when you and your brother fight? Absolutely. But that stuff, well, it happens. You gotta do what you gotta do to make yourself happy and if that means quitting volleyball after high school, that’s fine.” A small smile crossed the twin’s lips. “I’m gonna support you, no matter what you do. One condition, however.”

“Name it.”

“I get to be the first customer at your restaurant.”

A small laugh left Osamu’s mouth. “Deal. I’ll even make a manager’s special for ya.”

“So long as I get to be the first to try it. Now, knowing you, you’re probably hungry after all that.” You pulled away, stepping towards the fridge. “I don’t have much in terms of food, with my folks being out and exam season.” A small laugh left your lips as you pulled two pudding cups out the fridge. “Honestly, it’s just been a bit of a mess the last two weeks. But you probably could have guessed that based off the state of the kitchen.”

“I ain’t one to judge,” Osamu gratefully took the pudding cup as you sat down across from him, quickly digging into the pudding cup. “I’ll take whatever food ya give me, ya know that. I ain’t picky.”

Over the course of an hour, the two of you sat and chattered about everything and nothing, reminiscing about the old times, laughing over the stupid shenanigans the team would get into. At some point, you didn’t really notice when specifically, Osamu started cleaning your kitchen, organizing your dishes, asking where everything went, starting another load of dishes. All at once, the wave of nostalgia hit you as you stared blankly at the kitchen floor.

“I’m really graduating, huh,” you murmured, half to yourself. “No more volleyball club, no more management… Just university and work.” 

“Stop that, [L/N]. If you start cryin’, I’ll start cryin’ and I ain’t about to do that.” The look that Osamu gave you was almost a threat, leading you to burst into laughter at the twin.

“I’ll try not to, ‘Samu.” You wiped a tear away from your eye. “Not crying over leaving, just from laughter.” You looked at your phone, noting how late it was getting. “You want to crash here for the night? I’ll need to clean the living room up a bit…” You bit your lip, wondering if you could pull out a futon on your bedroom floor. “Yeah, I’ll have to clean up the living room. My bedroom is an even bigger mess than the living room. I can grab my futon, if you’d like.”

“If it causes ya too much trouble, don’t worry about it. I can sleep with just a blanket and a pillow just fine.” At some point during your conversation, Osamu had managed to hand wash the majority of your dishes. “You’ve done enough for me just by bein’ you. Here, I’ll help ya clean up the living room once I finish here.”

It hadn’t dawned on you just how much Osamu had cleaned your kitchen. Almost all the dishes had been cleaning in the time that you two had been talking. “I… I owe you for the cleaning.” Quietly, you added pudding cups to your grocery list. The expensive, single pack ones, specifically. “I hadn’t realized how bad it had gotten until I got home today.”

“Hmmm, I’ll take it only since ya offered it. But don’t be too fussed about owing me.” Putting up the last of the dried dishes, he made his way to the living room. “Had I known earlier, I would’ve helped ya out. The whole team owes ya with the amount of stress we cause ya.”

A small giggle left your lips as you opened the door to your room to find the spare futon and an extra blanket or two. “Stress is well worth it for you all.” You grabbed your spare futon and blankets and headed to the living room. “I wouldn’t have changed these last three years for anything.”

“And we couldn’t ask for a better manager, [L/N].” Osamu quietly shuffled around various pieces of junk that had managed to clutter on your floor, making just enough room for the futon. “Ya got the patience of a saint for dealing with us, really. Ya need to brag about yousself more often”

“I’m not one for bragging, you know that,” you responded, laying the futon and blankets out on the floor for the twin. “All I need is to be the first person that eats at your restaurant and get that special named after me.” You settled down on the couch, curling up into a ball, quickly followed by Osamu. “You want to watch anything before you go to bed? I can put on a movie for us.”

“Hmm, that works. Ya got Ponyo?”

“Of course.” It was once that Osamu had mentioned his favorite movie being Ponyo, but you made sure to etch it into memory for nights like this. Quietly, you started the movie, settling back down on the couch. 

At some point during the movie, you found yourself nodding off, mentally telling yourself  _ just five more minutes before bed _ . You never did make it to your bed though, falling asleep on the couch next to an all too invested Osamu.

\---

_ Osamu: Kita-senpai, what time will you be over this morning? [L/N] and Atsumu are still asleep. _

_ Kita: Thirty minutes. _

_ Osamu: Front door is already unlocked. Grocery list is on the table with some yen as well, if you feel like taking care of the groceries. _

Osamu put his phone on the now relatively cleared coffee table next to him, careful not to disturb your slumbering form. You were completely passed out on his chest, arm thrown over the gray-haired twin’s stomach, mouth wide open with a little trail of drool trailing out onto his chest. He didn’t care though. You deserved the rest after the last few weeks you’d had. Later into the night, Atsumu had wandered to your front door, wandering into your home as if he had owned the place. The  _ last  _ thing he’d wanted was to wake you up with their bickering and fighting, so Osamu had simply instructed his twin to go to bed without saying  _ anything _ .

And, of course, Osamu had been texting Kita throughout the evening, talking about how he felt guilty about not noticing how stressed you had been for the last few weeks. Kita responded in like, noting that he had had his concerns but had failed to bring it up due to it being exam season. That’s when the offer to take care of the household chores had come up in conversation, and Kita had adamantly insisted he stop by your house and take care of any cleaning and miscellaneous chores you had leftover.  _ Including  _ taking care of your grocery shopping.

Of course, you knew none of this, as you were still snoring softly on top of Osamu’s chest. Osamu didn’t care, though. You needed the rest and Kita had insisted he take care of it.

Thirty minutes passed and, like a well-oiled machine, Osamu heard the front door quietly open. He didn’t need to turn his head to know it was Kita that had entered the room. The captain poked his head into the living room, giving a silent nod of acknowledgement to Osamu, avoiding disturbing you and Atsumu’s slumber. 

How Kita managed to clean so quietly and so effectively, with absolutely no time wasted, Osamu didn’t know.  _ A damn machine _ , Osamu thought, yawning as he nodded off back to sleep.  _ But that ain’t a problem. He gets his stuff done.  _

\----

You weren’t quite sure what woke you; the smell of cooking food or the sound of Osamu’s snoring. All you knew is you  _ definitely  _ didn’t remember falling asleep on Osamu, and you  _ definitely  _ didn’t change into your pajamas.  _ When did Atsumu get here?  _ You thought drowsily to yourself, noting the blonde twin curled up on the futon on the floor.  _ And… whose cooking? My folks shouldn’t be home at this point. _

You pulled Osamu’s arm off your waist, trying to avoid waking him up from his sleep, rubbing the sleep from your eyes as you pushed yourself off the sofa.  _ His bruising and black eye aren’t as bad as I thought _ , you noted as you stared at his sleeping face.  _ And the redness from the cuts has gone down. I’ll need to change that bandaid at some point, most likely. _ You turned your attention to Atsumu, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. From this angle, you couldn’t quite see his face but given Osamu’s state, he probably had some damage as well, maybe even worse given how physical Osamu could get when he fought. You prayed silently that the nurse or Kita had managed to take care of the damage.

Quietly, you shuffled into your kitchen, following your most primal instinct as your stomach started growling with hunger. You weren’t imaging that smell, right? No one was awake to be making food, and your parents  _ definitely  _ weren’t home yet. Besides, there weren’t enough groceries to make a full meal.

The moment you stepped into the threshold of your kitchen, you stopped in your tracks, staring wide eyed and slack jawed at the man standing at your kitchen stove. “K-Kita-senpai?”

“Osamu messaged me last night,” his voice was monotone as he continued dicing the various veggies that you  _ definitely  _ didn’t have the night before. “You should have told Aran or me. You needed a break.”

_ Ah, an early morning scolding,  _ you thought as you shut your mouth, taking stock of the kitchen. Your dining room table had been  _ completely  _ cleared off, dusted, polished, the whole deal. Empty, folded grocery bags sat on the kitchen counter, ready to be neatly put away. On the stove, eggs were being fried, alongside what seemed like a simple vegetable fry. Had this been a slice-of-life anime, you just  _ knew  _ that someone would think that Kita was your husband. Or, maybe, they would be writing a fanfiction about the two of you and the adorable domestic relationship you had.

“I… Sorry,” you mumbled, shuffling towards your bag. “How much were the groceries? I can pay you back.”

“Don’t fuss over it too much, just get it back to me when ya can,” Kita grabbed a bowl out of the cabinet as he spoke absent-mindedly to you. “Take care of yer stuff first. You’ve been stressed and ya need to take care of yourself. How many eggs?”

His words weren’t an acknowledgement of your hard work. More like, it was a silent reprimand. One that you had heard  _ multiple  _ times before, but never this early in the morning. “Just the one,” you responded, settling down at the kitchen table. “‘Samu will be awake soon with the smell of food, most likely, and he’ll be eating a lot more than me.”

“Ya rang?” As if on cue, Osamu drowsily stood in the threshold leading into your kitchen, yawning as he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. “I smelled food. Ya do everything ya needed, Kita-senpai?”

A small giggle left your lips as you stared at the drowsy twin. Yeah, everything was back to normal, and it was going to be alright. “I can get some band-aids out after you eat and change the one from last night. You probably need a fresh layer of antibiotic ointment as well.”

“Hmmm, it’s not hurtin’ that bad, but I appreciate it.” He settled down at the chair opposite of you. “I’m just starvin’.”

“You’re always hungry.”

“Mhm,” the twin practically hummed as Kita placed two bowls of rice in front of you, alongside the various toppings he had been preparing. “That’s just how I am, [L/N].”

At some point during your meal, Atsumu woke up and joined the three of you in the kitchen, resulting in a small verbal fight between the twins that Kita quickly broke up. Nostalgic conversations started up, with you and Kita reminiscing about the last three years. This earned you a “what are ya, a married old couple?” from Atsumu, which in turn earned a gentle smack from Osamu. Kita’s laugh echoed throughout the conversation, paring nicely with his rare soft smiles usually reserved only for his granny.

_ Maybe,  _ you thought to yourself, staring softly at the three boys sitting at your dining table.  _ Just maybe, this messy house was a blessing in disguise. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://www.buymeacoffee.com/regretrograde
> 
> buy me a coffee?


	9. Nekoma

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Taking care of team Nekoma following nationals

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whoops, depression and school got the best of me and distracted me from writing love that for us
> 
> anyway, less cuddling in this chapter, sorry about that. i just couldn't quite see nekoma being an extra cuddly team like the others
> 
> up next: kamomedai and maybe another shiratorizawa

Three days before nationals. Three days until you attend your final volleyball tournament of your three years at Nekoma. Three days before everything became  _ real.  _ Graduation, leaving Nekoma. Three days until you started the painful series of goodbyes to your team members, until you started giving your last hugs to your team.  _ Three days. _

Breath puffing out your nose, bundled up tightly in layers to fight off the brutal, you stepped off the bus stop, saying your thanks to the bus driver as you did. In your hands, a bag of sweets from the local store and freshly diced fruit, along with one of the “premium” (could it be called premium if you got it at a convenience store?) pudding cups. You stopped for a moment, looking up at the stars dotting the clear evening sky, much like the cover on your agenda you had your freshman year. The year that Kuroo managed to sneak the love of volleyball into your heart.

\------

“Hey, [L/N]-chan, have you joined any clubs yet?” You shyly glanced up from your notebook,only to be greeted by the first year with the bedhead. K… Kuroo, right? You gulped as you realized you couldn’t recall his name.  _ Stupid, stupid, stupid. _

Picking at your fingernails, you turned your attention back to your notebook. “N-no. I’m not sure if I’m going to join any clubs, to be honest.”

“ _Huhhhhhhh?_ ” Your eyes widened at his unnecessarily loud response, and you immediately shrunk back into your chair. You prayed a black hole would open up beneath your desk and swallow you up. “No clubs? How do you expect to get into university when you graduate if you don’t have anything on your resume? Besides…” A pen pointed to your notes, gaining your attention as the first year started pointing at your notes. “I think you’re letting your talents go to waste if you _don’t_ join a club. Your notes are amazing and organized, and you’re the most responsible person in our class. If you weren’t so quiet, it’d be an all out _brawl_ to get you in their club.”

_ If you weren’t so quiet. _ You tried to avoid externally cringing over his comment, your face already red with embarrassment at his comments. Notes? Amazing, organized? Most responsible person in the class? These compliments were a first, and you weren’t quite sure how to feel about them. 

“Ah, that… that was too harsh, wasn’t it? I’m sorry about that. But what I said is true, you’re  _ really  _ good in class and it’s admirable.” Somehow the blush spread on your face grew even deeper, and you felt like you could pass out on the spot.  _ Yep, any moment now, oh great deities, a black hole would be fantastic. _ “Hey, how about this. You come check out the volleyball club for  _ one  _ practice session, check out the team, meet our coach. You don’t like it, I won’t bother you about it ever again.” A sly grin you weren’t quite sure if you could trust grew on his lips. “But I think you’d be great.”

\------

And so started your whirlwind three years as the manager of Nekoma. Much like your school’s mascot, it was kinda like herding a bunch of cats. Well, honestly, dealing with cats probably would have been easier some days. By that time, Yaku and Kuroo were still rivals, leading to many fights that made your anxiety levels skyrocket. Kai, bless his heart, helped you through everything, gently guiding you through the basics since there hadn’t been a manager the year before you. Then the second years started, and  _ you  _ were the one breaking up the fights between Yamamato and Kenma. Then the first years started, and you no longer cared. Sometimes teenage boys needed to punch each other and get it out of their systems.

But no matter what happened, you wouldn’t have changed anything about it. There was always someone on the team willing to help you with homework, anxiety, nervousness, whatever was on your mind. You just needed to call someone. Your soft-spoken voice was a thing of the past, having found your voice (and losing your voice) cheering your team on at tournaments. In fact, the first time you  _ ever  _ yelled was during practice one day when a stray ball had nearly knocked Yaku out. And despite the libero being on the verge of unconsciousness, he still ended up crying right alongside Kuroo at your sudden loud outburst, much to the team’s confusion.

And, of course, you always took care of the team. In fact, you had been on the phone with various members of the team for the last few hours, easing nerves and anxieties about nationals. You actually weren’t quite sure if Lev would ever get off the phone, to be quite honest. Your evenings had been dedicated to texting the team, seeing if anyone needed anything. And everyone, even Kenma, politely replied, and you did exactly as they requested.

Well, everyone minus one probably stressed out captain.

“Hi, I’m sorry about how late it is at night, I just wanted to check up on Kuroo. Is he home by chance? He hasn’t been responding to my texts.” You found yourself standing in the doorway of Kuroo’s family home, looking up at his father.

His father nodded. “He’s been busy with homework, and I haven’t been able to get a moment to sit down and talk with him. Please, come in. Can I get you anything to drink?”

You bowed politely, stepping into the warm home and removing your shoes. “Thank you, sir. And yes, hot tea would be nice. Just put it outside of Kuroo’s door when it’s ready, please.” It wasn’t the first time you had visited Kuroo’s house so late at night, so this wasn’t exactly new for his father. Late night discussions about volleyball, academics, whatever it was that would last until early in the morning. It wasn’t unusual for you to spend the night, either, and he always made sure to have extra bedding on hand in that situation.

“Kuroo?” You quietly knocked on the bedroom door, opening it slowly when you didn’t get a prompt response. “Senpai, are you-”

Your voice trailed off at the imagery in front of you. At his desk, hands ran through his hair in a ‘I want to pull every hair out of my head’ type way sat Kuroo, slumped over. You could vaguely hear some quiet mumbling, and you weren’t quite sure if he had heard you open the door or not. Whatever he was focused on, it was evidently stressful with the amount of tension in his shoulders. To be honest, you had expected this scene, perhaps something worse. Kuroo was incredibly intelligent and knew exactly how to take care of others, but taking care of himself was in a different ballpark. You were really the only one he opened up to, thus you knew exactly how to take care of him.

Sighing heavily, you stepped into the room, resting a hand on his shoulders. Much like a startled cat, he jumped in his chair, grumbling unhappily as he rubbed his face with his hands.

“You could have knocked, [L/N]-chan.” Exhaustion dripped out of his voice as he spoke, rolling his shoulders over the back of his chair. Heavy, dark eyebags accented his eyes as he looked up at you, earning him a head shake from you.

“I did, but you were too fixed on... “ You looked at his notes. Volleyball notes, of course. “Your volleyball notes. You look exhausted, senpai. You need to rest.”

“I could say the same for you. Running around, taking care of the team in these last few days when you should be focusing on your studies. The entrance exams for public health aren’t exactly easy, you know.”

Yep, absolutely exhausted. Instinctively, you motioned towards your stomach. Kuroo immediately picked up on this, wrapping his hands around your waist and pressing his face in your stomach. One hand quickly found his hair, running through the knots and tangles of his permanent bedhead, the other rubbing his neck. Kuroo would never admit to how much he adored physical affection, and you would never tell a soul about it.

A quiet knock echoed through the room, breaking the momentary silence. You quietly mumbled an explanation, more concerned about Kuroo than a cup of mug of hot tea. No words needed to be exchanged through the two of you, as you could already feel the tension releasing from his shoulders.

“What if it doesn’t happen?” Kuroo finally broke the silence, his voice a mumble. “The trashcan showdown, anyway.”

“Well, there…” No, there wasn’t next year, shit. You were both graduating. “Look at it this way, senpai. Even if we aren’t going to be there for the games or participate in the tournaments, there’s always the next few years. It’s not just  _ us  _ that has a rivalry with Karasuno, it’s our kohais as you. I mean, have you  _ seen  _ Kenma and Hinata? This is the most invested I’ve ever seen Kenma invested in a tournament. And you know who was responsible for all of that…?”

You lifted Kuroo’s face up, running your fingers under his eyes as you stared down at him.

“ _ That  _ was you, senpai. You should be proud of yourself and what you’ve built. I know our coaches are taking whatever opportunity they have to brag about you and all the work you’ve put in over these last years. Even if it doesn’t happen, even if we’re knocked out after the first round, if Karasuno is knocked out of the first round, that doesn’t change the fact that  _ you’ve  _ built a lasting legacy.  _ You  _ built this rivalry.”

You couldn’t quite tell if your words had fully registered with Kuroo as you looked down at him, exhaustion glazing over his eyes. Regardless, it was something you had been wanting to get off your chest for a while, and you were quite proud of yourself for finally saying it. A sigh escaped your lips as you pulled away from Kuroo, earning an unhappy grumble.

“You need sleep.” You declared, grabbing the mug of piping hot tea from the doorway. “Desperately. Go to bed, I’ll clean and organize your stuff.”

“Stay the night?” You were taken aback by the question, having never heard Kuroo directly requesting you specifically to stay the night. “I could use the company.”

A thin smile danced across your lips as you stared at your captain. “Of course. There’s some pre cut melon and some of your favorite sweets in the bag if you want any.”

“That’ll mess up my sleeping schedule, but…” He dug through the bag, pulling out the container of sliced melon and immediately chowing down on it. “I haven’t eaten in a couple of hours, so I should probably also eat.”

And there it was, the extremely rare admittance that he hadn’t been taking care of himself like he should have been. “Hm, weren’t you lecturing me about taking care of myself when I walked in?” You flopped yourself onto Kuroo’s bed, patting the empty space next to you to invite him over. Your comment earned a delay gripe from Kuroo, who was evidently too tired to make any quips.

“Did you bring any clothes to sleep in?” He inquired, changing into his pajamas after finishing his melon. Draped over his arm was a set of spare, old clothes, which he quickly tossed to you. “That’s a stupid question. You’re always stealing my clothes, anyway.”

You snorted, quickly changing into the spare clothes. “I’ll make sure to get them back to you before we graduate.”

“Keep them.” By now, Kuroo had flopped down next to you, digging his face back into your stomach as he stretched out on the bed. One hand full from the mug of hot tea, you used your free hand to run your hand through his hair. “It’s my graduation gift to you.”

“What a great graduation gift. I’m so flattered.”

You knew Kuroo must have been exhausted by the lack of retort to that statement, his arms wrapped tight around your waist as you massaged his shoulders. It wasn’t long before soft snores started dancing in your ear, and all you could do was smile as you recalled him complaining about how having food too late at night would lead to an irregular sleeping schedule. The amusing thought didn’t last long, as you found the combination of hot tea and Kuroo’s gentle snoring quickly lulled you off to sleep.

\------

Nationals were embarrassing for you, really. You just… You couldn’t stop crying. Over the smallest things, too. When Kai offered to get you a shirt from the stand, when Lev offered to carry your stuff. At some point, the managers at Karasuno just said a quick hello to you, resulting in you having to excuse yourself to cry in the bathroom. 

Oh, and the trashcan showdown that was being  _ taped  _ and  _ televised _ ? Yeah, you were sure they had caught you ugly sobbing on the bench more than once. In fact, you distinctively recalled sobbing ugly sobbing to Yaku, reassuring the libero that you were completely fine and just so proud of everyone, as you taped his fingers together. Thank god there was pocari sweat on hand, or else you would have been  _ incredibly _ dehydrated. At one point your coach had joked that you had drank half the sports drinks just to keep yourself hydrated from all your crying.

But when the game ended, the ball dropped, and Karasuno won, you were all smiles as you looked at your team. You practically threw yourself into an embrace between Kuroo, Kai, and Yaku, demanding all of their attention before any9one else could grab it. This, of course, earned a good laughing fit from your coaches. And then, of course, you started crying more when you lined up to shake hands with Karasuno, earning a few concerned glances from their team members

When your team finally got back to your hotel, you immediately buried yourself into taking care of the team. Hot tea, snacks, small little treats were all passed out, everything prepared to each team member’s preference (which you most definitely just happened to remember and most definitely  _ did not  _ have written down like a stalker), paying special attention to Kenma with a fever-reducing tea. Of course, the likelihood of him getting a fever was slim, but you wanted to make sure he was taken care of. And the likelihood of him actually drinking the tea you had made him was even lower.

At some point, Kuroo had joined you in your rounds, lecturing his team members like a grandpa lecturing his grandchildren. All you could do was laugh, a blessed reprieve the crying you had been doing practically all throughout the tournament. Slowly but surely, the two of you wound up at your room, where Kuroo absolutely insisted on making you a mug of tea. It was bitter, evident he had oversteeped it and burned the tea leaves a bit. Nothing you couldn’t cover up with a bit of sweetener, though. 

“You know.” Hands grasped around your mug, you stared into the piping hot tea, sitting comfortably in the nostalgic silence that filled your hotel room. “I don’t think I could ask for a better three years of high school. Thanks for getting me into volleyball, Kuroo.” You looked up at the captain, flashing the biggest smile you could possibly muster. “I don’t… I don’t think there’s anything I could do to repay you. I really can’t wait to see how far you go in sports promotion..”

Kuroo elected to not respond to your statement, instead pushing your arms to the side and pushing you down, lying on top of your chest. Probably his way of admitting he was too tired to cry anymore tonight which, quite frankly, you couldn’t blame him. Delicately balancing the mug of tea and taking a sip of it, you used your free hand to run a hand through his hair which he had, thankfully, washed before he had made his rounds with you.

“If you really love volleyball  _ that  _ much, go into sports management with me.” Kuroo lifted his head up from your chest to look up at you, earning a soft laugh from you as you stroked his hair. “We’ll do great, take over the field of sports promotion. I can already see us becoming the powerhouse of the sports teams.”

Your soft laugh turned into a full-blown snort, a trait you had picked up after these three years of being the team’s manager and one of Kuroo’s closest friends. “I already told you, I’m going into public health, senpai. Maybe there’ll be like a freak disease outbreak that lets us work together. Besides.” A knock at your door momentarily interrupted your train of thought, you and Kuroo’s attention turned to the door. “I’m  _ terrible  _ at convincing people to do stuff. Data analytics is more my thing.”

“Bah, I think you should still change to sports management. Less likely to get sick or injured.” Groaning from the soreness and achiness of the day, Kuroo pushed himself off your lap and excused himself to open the door. “And before you lecture me, yes, I already drank the tea you left out for me. I’m just  _ old. _ ”

“You’re  _ literally  _ younger than me, senpai. Stop complaining.”

“By a  _ day _ !” You heard the door open as Kuroo shouted. “Oh, Yaku, Kai. I take it you’re here for [L/N]-chan?”

Not even uttering a greeting to Kuroo, Yaku stepped into the room, proudly walking with his hands square on his hips. You noted the bag of gas station food in his hands. “I would _ never _ come here for you, Kuroo. Besides, our  _ senpai  _ was crying the entire game. I’m here to make sure they’re taken care of.”

A sigh escaped your lips as the three settled in front of you, bickering ensuing between Kuroo and Yaku. After three whole years, somethings  _ really  _ never change. “Thank you, Yaku, but I’m fine. I was crying because of how proud I was of the team, not because we lost.”

Yaku practically threw a bottle of pocari sweat at you, making you fumble awkwardly as you tried to balance your mug of tea already in your hand. “You’re probably dehydrated after all that crying. Three years of volleyball, and you still don’t know how to properly take care of yourself, senpai. You know I won’t be there for you after we graduate, right?” You laughed quietly, knowing this was Yaku’s way of showing his appreciation towards you without explicitly stating it.

“Ugh, don’t make me cry again,” you grumbled, slowly sipping the drink. “I’m already dehydrated and exhausted the way it is. You’ll just make it worse.” Your voice was teasing as you spoke. “At least I don’t puke or anything when I cry.  _ That  _ would be embarrassing.”

“We’d still take care of you regardless, senpai.” It was Kai that spoke up this time, helping unload the grocery bag of gas station junk food. “You’ve done more than enough for the entire team. You should relax every once in a while.”

In front of you was laid out nearly  _ every  _ single piece of junk food you could have possibly asked for. Sushi, pocky, jelly snacks, onigiri. Every piece of food that Yaku and Kuroo had been lecturing you about eating ever since you the team learned they would be going to nationals. Had you not been so emotionally and physically drained, you  _ probably  _ would have cried at the sight of all the food. Instead, you shook your head, grinning to your third years.

“I owe all of you. Seriously, you all don’t know how much you’ve changed me for the better these last three years.”

“Yeah, yeah, shut up and have this sushi before you make the rest of us cry, senpai.” Before you could respond, a piece of sushi was shoved in your face by Yaku, causing you to flinch in surprise. The libero recoiled, pulling the sushi back. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have done tha-”

Before he could finish his sentence, Kuroo took the opportunity to swoop in and steal the piece of sushi, biting down on the chopsticks as he stared Yaku directly in the face.  _ Ah yes, not much has really actually changed these last three years. _ You counted the sparks starting to fly between the two as you and Kai laughed at the scene.

“You didn’t specify  _ which _ senpai. You know, you should work on being more specific, Yakkun. Anyway, take  _ this  _ piece of sushi, [L/N]-chan. I know it’s your favorite.” It was Kuroo who spoke up first, shoving another piece of sushi in your face. 

Before you could even  _ think  _ about taking the sushi, Yaku was on top of Kuroo, a quick,  _ loud  _ scuffle breaking out between the two. Like some cartoon, you found the piece of sushi perfectly flying into your hand, still somehow together despite the current circumstances. An annoying snort of laughter broke out as you stared down at the sushi, shoulders shaking as you cackled over the scene going down in front of you. Next to you, Kai attempted to hold in his laughter the best he could, his hand politely placed over his mouth to hide his amusement.

“Okay, you two, settle down.” You wiped away the tears streaming down your face, letting out a shaky breath as you spoke. “We don’t need to be getting kicked out of the inn on our last night here. I’m a grown-up, I can feed myself.”

After a moment of staring at you, a faux pout on their lips over your statement, the two finally sat up, arguing the entire time over the situation. Who was at fault, who started it. All you could do was sigh and shake your head over the two, turning your attention back to Kai. For the next few hours, the four of you reminisced over the last three years, shedding some tears, but sharing even more laughs. By the end of it all, you could have sworn you’d grown abs and you wouldn’t be able to speak for  _ at least  _ a week. Mentally, you were already preparing yourself on how to explain to your teachers why you wouldn’t be able to speak for a week.

“Well, anyway, we need to get to bed.” Kuroo started cleaning up the empty packets of food, putting away the uneaten food for later. “Just because it’s our last night for nationals, we shouldn’t be messing our sleep schedules up. You have a good night, [L/N]-chan.”

The three left quickly, cleaning up after themselves before they left. An uncomfortable silence lingered in the room as you sat, staring blankly at the floor in front of you as you realized just  _ how  _ much you would miss this. The playful bickering, the laughter. You made a mental note to yourself to see if you could have a weekly meal with the group. But before that, you had a different priority.

You pulled out your phone, seeing that Kiyoko had  _ finally  _ gotten back to you. Jay Bird Inn. Pulling up a map on your phone, you found it would take about thirty minutes to walk there, but there was a bus you could take that would lead you directly there. And there was a convenience store right next to the inn.  _ Should I let the coach know I’d be out? Hmm, no, it should be fine. _ Throwing on additional layers, you poked your head out, looking around to make sure that everyone was in their rooms. Content that no one would know that you were out, you hastily made your way out the door to catch the next bus.

\-----

“How many people are on Karasuno, anyway?” You mumbled to yourself, hunched over, looking at the sweets section at the convenience store. Unfortunately by the time you had arrived, the store had been sold out of all the warm food, and the pre-made food was looking a  _ bit  _ stale. So, you settled on sweets and instant foods.  _ Hope their coach doesn’t kill me, _ you thought, grabbing a variety of sweets and pastries. 

“Rough day?” The cashier inquired, looking curiously at you as you placed all the sweets on the counter.

You let out a soft chuckle as you pulled out your wallet. “Ah, no, it’s for some friends of mine. We had volleyball nationals today, and our rivals lost their game today. I’m just trying to cheer them up… Oh!” You pointed at a fresh, vibrant bouquet of flowers, none of which you could name. All you knew is they would be  _ perfect _ for Kiyoko and Yachi. “Could I get that bouquet as well? They’re absolutely gorgeous! Do you happen to know where they’re from?”

The cashier laughed at your excitement as she pulled the bouquet down, setting it on top of your goods. “They’re from a local floral shop here in town. I’m actually shocked we actually have any this late at night, they usually sell out quick… Oh, a volleyball tournament? I just had a group of boys come in getting food as well, talking about a volleyball tournament. Kinda cleared me out of my hot foods, sorry.”

“Oh no, that’s fine. They’re teenage boys, they’ll probably eat anything.” You passed the yen off to the cashier, taking your purchases in your hand. “Oh yeah, the team I’m visiting is staying at the Jay Bird Inn, just a bit down the street. I’m not shocked to hear that.”

“I’m not complaining at all. I just wasn’t expecting such… loud people this late at night. Here’s your change. I hope you have a good night!”

You bowed politely, stepping out of the convenience store and into the brisk night air.  _ Thank god there was a bus stop nearby, _ you thought, starting towards Jay Bird Inn, goods in tow.  _ I’d hate to be caught in this weather. _ Before you knew it, you were standing in front of Jay Bird Inn, staring up at the sign. It was… shabby, especially compared to the hotel right next to it. But, it made sense given that Karasuno wasn’t  _ exactly  _ a powerhouse school yet.

“...[L/N]-chan?”

You nearly jumped out of your pants as you whipped around, a deer in headlights. Behind you, Kuroo, Yaku, and Kai stood in bewilderment, hands full of bags of food, Kuroo’s eyes wide open and jaw slack as he stared at you. A tense moment passed between the three of you, you mentally noting that this was  _ probably  _ the first time you had seen the captain at a complete loss of words. It was Yaku who broke the silence, breaking into a fit of laughter over Kuroo’s bewildered expression. You followed suit as you watched Kuroo turn red at the humiliation.

“Looks like we all had the same idea,” Kai remarked, looking at your hands full of convenience store food and flowers. “I’m sorry, we should have invited you, senpai.”

You let out a shaky sigh, wiping away the tears on your sleeve as the three approached you, Yaku insisting on taking some of your bags. “Thank you, Yaku, but I’m fine. And don’t apologize, Kai. You had no reason to invite me. I thought you were insistent on everyone getting a good night’s sleep, Kuroo?”

“Well,  _ I  _ hadn’t expected you to be irresponsible, [L/N]-chan.”

You snorted at the captain, opening the door to the Jay Bird Inn. “Well if  _ I’m  _ irresponsible, what does that make you three? Does the coach know you all are here?”

“Does the coach know  _ you’re  _ here?”

“... Fair.”

Stepping inside, you were greeted by Yachi and Kiyoko, the two shocked to see the four of you step into the inn lobby. At that moment, you swore up and down that the entire team of Karasuno was somehow psychic, with their team’s libero, third year setter, and captain showing up as soon as you handed off the bouquet of flowers to their managers. Yaku practically had to fight off the libero, and you could feel Kuroo’s intense glare stabbing into you as you handed the flowers off. 

What was  _ supposed  _ to be a quick visit ended with the four of you staying there for a good hour, rotating through the various members of the team. At some point, Kuroo had facetimed Bokuto and the rest of Fukurodani, adding onto the chaos even further. You and Kai ended the evening with an apology to the coach, who just laughed it off and thanked the four of you for stopping by. Much to Kuroo’s chagrin, you were unable to say hello to Hinata, who was completely passed out from his fever.

By the time the four of you left, it was already about ten at night. “I really hope the coach hasn’t caught us,” you mumbled drowsily, checking your phone for any texts from the team. Nothing, thank goodness. “I’m exhausted.”

“What did I say about sleep schedules?” Kuroo scolded you softly as he stepped onto the bus, escorting you to four empty seats. 

You laughed quietly, looking at the eyebags on him. “I could say the same for you, senpai.” This earned you a huff from the captain as you sunk into your bus seat, Kuroo and Yaku on either side of you. “Yeesh, I could fall asleep here.”

“I don’t have the strength to carry you into the hotel,” Kuroo warned, slinging an arm over your shoulders. “But if you  _ do  _ fall asleep, I’ll just wake you up. Maybe splash some water on you.”

“Thanks, Kuroo,” you mumbled, leaning up against him as your eyes slowly shut. You vaguely felt Yaku wrap his hand around yours, earning a soft smile from you as you drifted off to sleep.

Kuroo was good to his word, thankfully, gently rousing you as the bus pulled up in front of your hotel. You yawned, rubbing your eyes as you stood from your seat and stepped off the bus, Yaku insisting on helping you walk in your exhausted state. Upon walking into the hotel, the four of you were greeted by coach Nekomata. To be honest, at that point, you were a bit too exhausted to care about the coach looking at the four of you.

“Well, did you four have fun?” Coach Nekomata’s voice was filled with laughter as he stared at you, arms folded.

“Yeah, I guess we did,” you mumbled quietly, rubbing the back of your neck. “Sorry, we should have let you know.”

Nekomata simply waved his hand, dismissing your apology. “I was a teenager once, just like you. I’m not upset. You four should rest. We need to be out of here by noon.” The four of you groaned at once, earning a laugh from your coach as he left. “Your exhaustion will be your punishment.”

Kai quietly excused himself back to his room, and you made your way back to yours. Yaku and Kuroo insisted on walking you back, making excuses ranging from ‘we just want to make sure you’re safe’, ‘we just want to make sure that you get to sleep alright’. All you could do was laugh at their innocent concerns, though you were quite thankful when Kuroo unlocked your room for you and ushered you in. 

You bid the two a good night, waving them off tiredly before changing into your pajamas and curling up under your blanket. Before you dozed off for the night, you groggily scrolled through all the photos on your camera roll, smiling at all the photos and memories you’d collected through the years. As you drifted off to sleep, smile on your face, you made a silent prayer those memories would never leave you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> buy me a coffee?
> 
> https://www.buymeacoffee.com/regretrograde


	10. Nekoma ii

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Having Olympians take care of you? Worth it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fun fact: my coworker was an olympic swimmer. sweetest man i'd ever met.
> 
> i don't know anything about how japan is handling the pandemic, i'm just basing it off of what i know about going into public health

The scene unravelling in front of him was simultaneously overwhelming  _ and  _ all too familiar and nostalgic. Under heavy, exhausted eyelids, Kuroo watched as the former Aobajosai manager and team,  _ including  _ the setter who had whooped his own team’s asses, sat around the table in Onigiri Miya, crying from laughter as they recalled stories from high school and caught up with each other. Had he been drinking, he probably would have shed a few tears, recalling his stories with his manager and his team. A wave of nostalgia hit him like a bus as he stared down at his phone, which had been surprisingly quiet for the evening. Perhaps he should be grateful for that.

“Have you heard from senpai, Kuroo-san?” A red flush had grown over Yaku’s cheeks as he curiously looked over at Kuroo’s phone screen, earning himself a gentle shove. “Hey, I’m just worried about them. They’ve been working their ass off for the team.”

A sigh escaped Kuroo’s lips as he shook his head, pulling up your contact info for whatever reason. “No and of all people that  _ should  _ be here, [L/N]-chan is one of them. Their work is just as important as everyone else’s work.”

“I’m gonna call them. They should be here, and I miss him.” With that Yaku quickly whipped out his phone, dialing up the number that he knew like the back of his hand.

\-----

You didn’t want to admit to Kuroo and Yaku that you hadn’t watched the Olympics that night. In fact, you hadn’t watched the Olympics  _ at all.  _ Too many people, too much anxiety. Why were they having the Olympics anyway?  _ We should just delay them until 2024 so we can keep the numbers the same, _ you had proposed, half-joking and half-serious. 

COVID cases in Japan hadn’t been  _ that  _ bad. The country had done well to keep the cases contained, funding for healthcare and social programs drastically increasing to cushion the blow the pandemic had had on the economy. People were being responsible, taking physical distancing precautions, masking, and hygiene seriously, taking no unnecessary trips when lockdowns were implemented. Honestly, people just immediately started taking the precautions  _ without  _ the implemented lockdowns. You’ve considered yourself damn lucky to be living in your country, counting your blessings that you were in Japan and not another country.

Unfortunately, some  _ other  _ countries weren’t taking it as seriously as your country. And that’s what had you  _ terrified  _ of the Olympics, unable to even watch the Olympics, despite your former team members being a part of the time.

In order to avoid paying attention to everything going on, you decided to dive head first into your work. Kuroo had managed to get you a temporary position working for Japan’s volleyball team, constantly making sure that the team was following regulations and being monitored for COVID symptoms. No one managed to get sick but to be honest, you think it was more because of Kiyoomi Sakusa’s presence than your presence. The hitter scared you sometimes and made you, the one who  _ literally  _ studied disease spread and epidemics, feel you weren’t taking enough steps to mitigate the pandemic.

“If only he accepted gifts,” you mumbled, rubbing your eyes as you stared at the new data points you had received earlier that day. “I’d spoil the shit out of him.”

Around your office set-up, stacks of paper and reports were strewn across in no particular order, having given up on organization a  _ long  _ time ago. You took a sip from a coffee mug, grimacing as the cold liquid hit your tongue. What time was it? You squinted at your computer monitor. 11 pm. People would be at clubs, drinking and partying without their masks on, hooking up with random strangers they’d just met, sharing drinks and food. So many contact points you’d be having to contact in the future. How many cases would this result in? Hospitalizations? Deaths? Your chest began tightening at the thought, foot fidgeting as you stared wide eyed at your data.

“No, stop that.” You mumbled to yourself, screwing your eyes shut and throwing your head back. You rubbed your face with your hands, finishing up with a good slap on your cheeks. “Focus on the now, not the future. What do I need to do  _ now _ ?”

_ Bzzt, bzzt. _ You nearly pissed yourself at the sudden vibration of your phone, staring wide-eyed in horror at the vibrating piece of technology. You flipped the phone over, checking the name on the screen.

_ Yaku. _

_ Please don’t be too drunk, _ you prayed silently to yourself, exhaling as you picked up the phone to answer him. “Hello?”

“Senpai!” Yeah, he was a bit drunk. Which was fair, given they had just come in second place in the Olympics. You couldn’t help but chuckle over the libero still insisting on calling you senpai. “Did you watch my save tonight? I was playing  _ so  _ well tonight! Well, we were all playing well tonight, but I was especially playing well tonight!”

You laughed, standing up from your desk to stare at your window. “I’ll have to watch it later. I got a bit caught up with work, sorry. It’s been…” You sighed heavily, rubbing your face. “It’s been rough.”

“Have you eaten, senpai?” You froze at the libero’s question, knowing he wouldn’t like your answer. As if on cue, your stomach grumbled loudly, and you prayed quietly he hadn’t heard over the phone. Coffee wasn’t  _ exactly  _ a good meal replacement, to be honest.

“Uh, does coffee count?” You asked jokingly, heading to the kitchen to rummage through your fridge. Plates and cups were stacked in your sink, some untouched for a week, and your trash was nearly overflowing.  _ That's the life of a public health worker in the middle of a pandemic, for you. _ Rummaging through your fridge, you suddenly remembered that you were out of food for the week and had planned to order takeout as a celebration for the Olympics.  _ Shit. _

A faint  _ tsk _ -ing sound greeted your ear as Yaku spoke. “Senpai, you really need to learn how to take care of yourself. What would the team do without you?” In the background of his call, you could faintly recognize Hinata, Bokuto, and Kuroo’s voices intermingling. Something about a Ouija board?

“Yeah, I… The time got away from me tonight. I was planning to order takeout for the games, but I just… Yeah.” You sighed heavily, running a hand through your hair.

“Are you alright, senpai?” The previous drunkenness in Yaku’s voice disappeared almost immediately as concern took over. 

“Yeah, I’m fine.”  _ No, I’m not fine, but I don’t want to concern you.  _ “I’m just stressed.”

“Liar.” You jolted as Kuroo’s voice greeted your ear. “You’ve been stressed since day one, taking care of this team. On top of that, you’ve been on the front lines since the beginning of pandemic. You should be with us, celebrating and eating damn good food.”

You laughed quietly, shutting the fridge door. That sounded like hell, to be completely honest, with how severe your agoraphobia had been over the last year and a half from this pandemic. But you wouldn’t dare admit that to Kuroo. “It’s fine. Besides, I think Sakusa-san has done more than I have. You should be crediting him with keeping the team in-line with.”

That all too familiar snarky laugh met your ears, a small smile growing as it played in your ears. You could hear Yaku making an order for some food or another. “I’ll see about getting him a raise, then. Hey, you want to facetime? Yaku and I are heading home for the evening and could use some company.”

“Sorry, I look  _ really  _ rough right now.” You shoved your phone in the nook of your shoulder, tilting your head as you started washing dishes. To be completely honest, you had been living in your old Nekoma sweatpants and sweater for the last few days now. You were shocked that they didn’t have holes in them at this point. “I’m happy to stay on the phone with you just… I’ll have to decline the facetime offer this time.”

A bell chimed in the background. “Imagine how rough  _ we  _ look, senpai.” You could hear Kuroo immediately regret that response. “Ah, sorry, that was probably insensitive with how stressed you’ve been. Besides, you always look flawless, no matter how stressed you are.”

You laughed, pushing a stray piece of hair behind your ear. You couldn’t tell how much time passed as you talked to Kuroo and Yaku on the phone, the two trading off with the other occasionally to fill you in on  _ everything  _ that you had missed. All the plays, all the crazy scores. At this point, it was practically pointless to watch a rerun of the game. Like usual, the two weren’t disappointed about losing the game, instead chattering on about the cool plays the other team had made, trading jokes between the two of them. 

As you chatted on the phone, you cleaned up and organized your apartment, not realizing just  _ how  _ messy your apartment had gotten over the last few weeks. To be fair, you  _ were  _ working with the Olympic’s committee to help mitigate COVID spread. And you  _ had  _ been working on the COVID-19 pandemic since it first appeared in Japan. You had a pretty damn good reason to let the place get messy. 

Your apartment doorbell rang suddenly, breaking you out of the cleaning trance you had entered and bringing you back to reality. “Hey, Yaku, sorry, I gotta hang up for a minute. The doorbell just rang.” 

“This late at night?” Concern had taken over Yaku’s voice. “Well, you better text me and let me know that you’re safe after answering the door.”

You threw on a mask and shoes, opening your apartment door before even hanging up on Yaku. “I wi-”

In front of you stood Kuroo and Yaku, Yaku’s cheeks rosy and flushed from his drinks as he grinned widely at you. Kuroo’s famed mischievous grin was plastered on his face, a bag of food stuck out in front of him for you to take. In that moment, all the stresses from the last few weeks released, shoulders loosening as you stared at the two. You didn’t realize just  _ how much  _ you needed something like this.

You hung up your phone, gesturing for them to come in. “Hey, I answered the door Yaku. And I wasn’t murdered.” 

Yaku once again  _ tsk _ at you as he took his shoes off and slipped on the spare pair of slippers you kept around for him, Kuroo falling suit behind him. “You should be more careful when you’re answering the door this late at night, [L/N]-senpai. It could be  _ anyone  _ at that door.”

The cogs in your brain started turning as you tried to think of a witty response to the libero. “I… yeah. Probably. Sorry, too tired to think right now.” You motioned for the two to join you at the kitchen table. “Let me get you two some water. Or would you prefer tea? Actually, I don’t know if I have mugs clean for tea.”

“Senpai, sit. We came over to take care of you since you’ve taken such good care of us.” You hadn’t even registered Kuroo pouring three cups of water for the three of you.  _ Thank god I cleaned the apartment up,  _ you thought as you placed the food on the kitchen table, practically falling into an empty kitchen chair. You gratefully accepted the glass of water, realizing that was  _ probably  _ the first glass of water you’d had that day.

“We got you your favorites! Plus some from Onigiri Miya! They were sort of sold out of everything, though. Have you eaten there before, senpai? It’s owned by Atsumu’s twin, Osamu!” Yaku prattled off to particularly no one as he sat down at the table, 

_ Oh my god, too much energy for this late at night _ . Your thoughts were idle, almost empty as you broke into the food they had gotten you, practically drooling over the food in front of you. Damn, even if it wasn’t fresh, the onigiri tasted  _ heavenly  _ as you bit into it. Or, maybe, it was the fact that you hadn’t eaten in a couple of hours. That could have contributed to it very easily.

“How is the team?” You inquired, chowing down into the food as Kuroo joiend you at the table. “I overheard something about a Ouija board on the board.

“Drunk,” Kuroo quickly responded, grabbing a piece of sushi with his chopsticks. “Oh, Ushijima’s Ouija board? Yeah, it appeared at the restaurant.” He snorted at the concerned look you had on your face. “Don’t worry senpai, it’s being taken care of in the next week or so. Here, open.”

Before you could even open your mouth to respond to Kuroo, Yaku practically leapt across the table, stealing the piece of sushi from the chopsticks in front of your face. His eye contact with Kuroo was practically a challenge, asking what he was going to do about it.

“That’s payback.” Yaku’s word came out as a mumble as he chomped down on the chopsticks.

All you could do was laugh at the scene playing out in front of you, tears immediately streaming down your face. Maybe it was the complete exhaustion or the shock of seeing the two of them at your front door at midnight, but your stomach was soon hurting from the laughter erupting from your chest. It was… It was cathartic, and you quickly realized you hadn’t had that sort of laugh in quite a long time.

“Things just really never change, do they?” You managed to calm yourself down, taking a piece of sushi with your bare hands. “I guess that’s payback from nationals, Kuroo.”

An hour passed, then two, and suddenly it was nearly three in the morning as the three of you sat at your kitchen table, reminiscing on stories from high school. At one point, you could have sworn that you saw Kuroo shed a few tears during the evening, his laugh and smile soft as you chattered with Yaku. Despite the evident exhaustion on everyone’s faces, you didn’t really want the night to end. Well, at that point, it was the morning hours, and you vaguely remembered the promise you had made yourself about going to bed early.

“I’m guessing you two will stay here?” Around you, Kuroo and Yaku were cleaning up the kitchen, washing their dishes and plates off, refusing to let you lift a finger. “I mean, it’s kinda three in the morning at this point. I’ve got couches you can crash on.”

“You don’t have to say that twice, senpai.” Yaku yawned, rubbing his eyes, his red flush gone as he had managed to sober up over the last few hours. “Where are the blankets? I’ll take the smaller couch.”

“Ah, let me get them out for you, one moment.” You stood, a bit wobbly on your feet as you realized just  _ how  _ exhausted you were. Kuroo was quick to help you on your feet, but not before giving you a gentle scolding. “They’re under the table in the living room. You won’t miss them.”

“Great!” The libero was practically acting like he hadn't just competed in the Olympics, racing into the living room and snatching up numerous blankets before you and Kuroo could even get out of the kitchen. In fact, by the time you had settled down on the bigger couch, he was curled up in the smaller chair, snoring softly.

Before lying down, you and Kuroo sat in silence, listening to Yaku’s gentle snores punctuate the silence. Your living room was a wreck, covered in old magazines and projects you had started during quarantine, and you were incredibly thankful that Yaku hadn’t made any comments. Hell, the libero was probably too exhausted to even  _ process  _ the mess in the living room.

“Let me clean up tomorrow, senpai.” Kuroo finally broke the silence, groaning as he stretched out on the couch, motioning for you to join him. “The league has given us the next few days off to watch the rest of the events, so I’ll stay behind and help you out around the apartment. It’s the least I could do for you, especially after dragging you into this organization.”

You sighed heavily, knowing full well you didn’t want him to do that but also knowing he would argue with you if you said no and, ultimately, you were far too exhausted to say no to his offer. That didn’t matter, though. You needed sleep, and you quickly found yourself throwing an arm over Kuroo’s stomach, pressing your forehead into his neck.

“Hey, it’s my field. Besides,” you voice came out as a tired mumble as you closed your eyes. “I got to work with you again, senpai. And I couldn’t ask for anything better.”

You felt Kuroo press a gentle kiss on the top of your head, his arm quickly find your waist as he wrapped himself around you, a single leg pinning your free leg down. For once, you realized, it wasn’t you making sure that Kuroo was falling asleep. After all these years, it was him that taking care of you and making sure you were getting the proper sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> buy me a coffee?
> 
> https://www.buymeacoffee.com/regretrograde

**Author's Note:**

> Buy me a coffee?
> 
> https://www.buymeacoffee.com/regretrograde

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [seeing all your faces](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27683387) by [marxipan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/marxipan/pseuds/marxipan)




End file.
